


Before They Were Fabulous

by SaskiaK



Series: The Fabulous Killjoys [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-24 23:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 53,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaskiaK/pseuds/SaskiaK
Summary: Meet the guys in their early years. Find out what happened to them as they grew up and how they came together as the notorious Fabulous Killjoys.





	1. Dangerous Days

The Helium Wars had been relatively short, lasting only eighteen months, but the effect had been devastating. In wars, countries crumble, in this war entire continents had been lost. The vast majority of the USA had been reduced to a desolate and dangerous wasteland with few cities surviving. Out of the ashes of a once proud nation had risen Better Living Industries. Like a phoenix it emerged somehow fully formed and the huge corporation seemed ready to assume control immediately. The more cynical survivors couldn’t help but wonder if the war had been coincidental or more terrifyingly, if it had been manufactured to offer a platform for the insidious company. It certainly wasn’t the only post-war organisation to appear; amongst others, Dead Pegasus emerged with a stranglehold monopoly on fuel supplies, but there was something quasi-governmental about BLI or more accurately dictatorial.

You either agreed with BLI or you disappeared, but of course, nobody noticed. The sheer agony and misery of the war had been countered by BLI’s brand new medications that promised an easier living experience, achieved by dulling the senses and reducing people to emotionless, smiling drones who gratefully accepted whatever they were told or received. Through their cheerful cartoon character, Mousekat that bore a more than passing resemblance to the early incarnations of Mickey Mouse, BLI’s advertising campaigns promised that life was good and people were happy and content under BLI’s rule - provided you took their medication, of course. If you didn’t, naturally you disappeared. The aftermath, as all the propaganda explained, was indeed secondary.

One of BLI’s chief locations was the newly constructed Battery City in California. Densely populated with controlled weather under its protective dome, the majority of the heavily medicated populace worked, played and lived in blissful ignorance. Few refused to accept BLI’s all-pervasive presence, but some of those who did managed to escape Battery City’s heavily guarded walls to start new lives. They would live free of the medication, but in devastating poverty out in the Zones. The further out the townships were, the more dangerous. Not just from the criminal elements running from BLI, but also from the radioactivity following the wars that increased the further from Battery City you travelled. An additional hazard were the acid rain storms that tended to ravage the outer zones could be lethal.

The first people to rail against BLI were the veterans of the Helium Wars. They had fought hard in perilous conditions, frequently driven mad or losing the use of limbs if not their lives from the deployment of nerve agents and electromagnetic mines. They had fought for freedom against tyranny, only to find that tyranny had the upper hand all along.

Now, many of those veterans had established camps far outside the suffocating walls of Battery City. In their minds, the war had not ended; just the enemy had changed.

*

The jeep raced along Route Guano, kicking up a heavy cloud of dust and sand as it hurtled along. Behind it, somewhat obscured by the cloud, was Battery City and probably very soon the ‘Crows would be following. The jeep’s occupants were keen to return to Zone 4 and deeply uncomfortable with how close they still were to the enemy.

“Any sign, Flex?” The driver barked over his shoulder, the roar of the engine almost drowning out his words.

A short pause followed as another of the jeep’s occupants peered into the distance through a set of protective visors. With the dust and sand cloud finally clearing as the jeep reached a steady speed, the man was able to see relatively clearly back to Battery City and sighed with relief as he noticed that they had managed to get away without being followed.

“All clear, Leech,” the gruff voice returned. “Not a ‘Crow in sight, but I’ll keep looking, just in case.”  
“And I’ll keep an eye on the desert, in case they’re already out on patrol,” a third man added.

The driver punched the air, letting out a loud cry of joyous celebration.

“We did it!” He cried. “We actually did it!”  
“Was there ever any doubt?” The second man chuckled, looking back towards the driver. “We planned this raid to the ‘n’th degree.”  
“Yeah, well, something... anything could have gone wrong,” the third added.  
“Doesn’t hurt to be cautious though, does it?,” the driver grinned in the rear view mirror, seeing Battery City disappearing into the distance. “But it looks like we got away with it.”  
“Wait! What’s that?” The third shouted urgently.  
“What?” The man driving asked, checking all the mirrors for signs of the enemy, his voice tense and concerned.  
“What d’ya see, Death?”  
“Pull over,” the man demanded.  
“Pull over?” Leech gasped. “Are you crazy?”  
“It’s not a ‘Crow,” he insisted. “Pull over.”  
“You better be right about this, Death,” Leech grumbled as slowed the jeep and brought it to a halt at the side of the road.  
"What are we looking at?” Asked Flex, scanning the desert for whatever Death had seen. “Oh, that!”

Pointing to a shape of what looked like a child sprawled face down in the sand, Flex jumped down from the jeep, with Leech following close behind.

“Shout if you see any ‘Crows,” Leech called back as he ran after the other man.

Kneeling, Flex cast a shadow over the body of what he now realised was a young boy of perhaps eleven or twelve. His curly, fair hair fell over his cheek, partially protecting it from the heat of the sun, but even without pushing it aside, he could see the boy had severe sunburn. It seemed likely he was dehydrated and suffering with both heat and sun stroke. He was amazed he was even alive. Scooping him up into his arms, Flex turned back to the jeep.

“What?” Leech’s eyes widened and he threw his arms out to the sides. “We’re picking up waifs and strays now?”  
“You want to leave him to die?” Flex tipped his head and raised a questioning eyebrow.  
“No,” the older man sighed and shook his head before turning to head back to the car. “Let’s see if D can fix him up.”  
“If anyone can, it’ll be D,” Flex added in admiration of the older doctor’s skill.

Dr Death Defying watched as the two men returned to the jeep carrying what appeared to him to be a small boy, or possibly a girl, it was hard to tell from the distance he was away. In either case, the child looked as though serious care was needed. They had to return to camp as soon as possible.

*

The eight-year old dark-haired boy reached up to the door lock and inserted his key - an almost daily ritual. Turning the key, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. Small, even for his age, Frankie was often mistaken for about six, but he didn’t mind; his friends were older than him and they looked after him whenever he was with them. Closing the door behind him, he held his breath and listened. At first, there was only silence; that’s how he liked it, but it wasn’t long before his guardian’s voice bellowed through the apartment.

“Where have you been?”

The man’s slurring voice rang in Frankie’s ears, making him gasp and shudder with fright. Pressing himself back against the door, all he wanted to do was turn and run back out. He knew what was coming.

Into the hallway stepped Doug Lawson, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a protruding belly hanging over his belt, his shirt stretched to its limit trying to cover him. Practically bald with just a few tufts of hair in a semi-circle reaching around his head just above his ears and a cigarette hanging from his mouth, he leaned against the kitchen doorframe swaying slightly, obviously drunk and his usual belligerent self.

“I asked you a question, boy!” He yelled.  
“I... I...” Frankie stammered, his face pale, body rigid, desperately trying to merge with the front door.  
“What’s the matter? You gonna cry? Pass out? You’re a weak, useless little brat! I said ‘Where have you been?’”  
“I... I was at Gerard’s.” He finally managed, although it emerged in barely more than a whisper.  
“What did you say?” He yelled again, stumbling forward towards the young boy. “You’ve been hanging out with your fancy, famous, rich friends?”  
“They’re not fancy, they’re...” Frankie began only to feel the sharp sting of the back of the man’s hand across his face.  
“Don’t talk back to me, boy! If I say they’re fancy, they’re fancy! Got it?”

Frankie nodded silently, his neck and jaw muscles tightening as he tried to stop his eyes welling up with hot tears from pain, fear and humiliation. Frankie gasped as the man snatched his left wrist and began to drag him to the boy’s bedroom.

“Looks like I gotta teach you some respect again, boy. When are you gonna learn?”  
“No!” Frankie cried, his eyes wide and wild as his heels dug into the carpet in an attempt to prevent the inevitable. “I’ll be good, I will, I promise.”

The man stopped dragging him and slammed him back against the wall, his head bouncing forward once more after hitting the plasterboard with a dull thud. Dazed and suddenly lightheaded, Frankie barely heard the man’s next words before he felt himself being dragged towards his room once more. Now unable to resist, Frankie went easily; it was better just to get it over with.

“Good?” He laughed, with a sharp, bitter edge to the sound. “You don’t know the meaning of the word!”

Inside the bedroom, Frankie was thrown towards his bed, managing at the last moment to stop himself from falling. Turning to face his guardian, Frankie trembled as he saw the man removing his belt.

“Frankie Lawson, take off your shirt.”  
“My name’s not Lawson, you’re not my dad.”

The words were out before he realised he’d even thought them and his eyes widened like saucers at the furious reaction of the man before him. Whipping the belt out, the tip cracked against the boy’s right cheek, raising a large red welt immediately. Frankie’s hand shot up to cover his stinging cheek, only for him to realise that his face was wet. He hadn’t even realised he’d started crying.

“Shirt off! I’ll teach you not to talk back, you useless brat!”

Still trembling, Frankie pulled the shirt over his head, gasping as he saw from a smear on the shirt that the wetness on his cheek was in fact both blood and tears. Folding the belt, Lawson stepped forward and spun Frankie around and forced him to bend over the bed.

“Repeat after me, ‘My name is Frankie Lawson’.”  
“My name is Frankie Iero,” the boy insisted in return.

His punishment for disobeying was a vicious strike across his back with the folded belt, pulling a scream from his lips before gritting his teeth and tensing for the next.

“Lawson, you little brat! I’m paid to look after you, you’ll use my name!”  
“But you don’t, do you?” Frankie turned onto his side, staring up with wild eyes, surprising both of them with his new found courage. “You don’t look after me! All you do is beat me and starve me!”

This time it was a fist, smacking into Frankie’s left cheek, dislodging a tooth and causing the inside of his cheek to split and bleed. Slipping to the floor, tears now ran freely down his cheeks.

“You don’t deserve to be treated any better! You’re useless!” Lawson pointed at him with the belt. “Now, get up!”

After a moment’s pause, Lawson reached down, pulling the fearful boy up by his hair. Pushing him back across the bed, the man whipped the belt across his back. Screaming loudly, Frankie’s eyes widened in terror as something was stuffed into his mouth preventing him from making much more than muffled noises. As the belt came down once more, he realised that the belt was no longer folded and the buckle was ripping across the skin on his back. Shuddering with agony and tears, Frankie grimaced one more time as the belt buckle crashed heavily down on his back once more. After only three strikes, there were painful red welts, multiple bruises and scratched and torn skin with blood seeping from the wounds. Pulling the obstruction from Frankie’s mouth, Lawson stepped back to watch the boy slip to his knees on the floor, still leaning on the bed for support.

“What’s your name, boy?”

Frankie screwed up his eyes and whimpered. He wanted so much to give in and tell the man what he wanted to hear, just to get rid of him, but something in him refused. Turning, staring up whilst seated on the floor, he yelled back”

“Iero! My name is Frankie Iero!”

He saw the fist coming, possibly even felt it, but only briefly. Slumping to the floor, rolling partially under the bed, Frankie was unconscious before his head hit the carpet. Sliding his belt back into the loops on his pants, Lawson shook his head.

“You should be thankful I get paid to take you in or you’d be in the gutter, boy! I’m gonna teach you some manners if it kills you!”


	2. Introducing Gerard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet our next young ‘not yet a Killjoy’, Gerard, and find out why Frankie’s guardian thinks he’s fancy, famous and rich - and more besides.

The apartment was large and tastefully decorated with furniture with sleek, simple lines. Glass and chrome seemed to dominate the living room and the only colours to be seen were black, white and grey. It wasn’t to Gerard’s taste at all, but what would he know, he would ask himself, he was only thirteen and his opinions didn’t run to interior decorating. The main living space was split level with a raised platform on one side of the room reached by climbing just a couple of steps and housed a combined snack and bar area. Occasionally Gerard or Mikey would help themselves to a snack, or even eat breakfast at the counter, making use of the coffee maker stored there, but largely it went unused unless they had adult visitors.

The view from the large window and balcony was breathtaking. Thirty floors up, in the penthouse, they could see across all of the wealthier areas of Battery City - the building was designed intentionally to block the view of the slum areas on the outskirts of the east side. If the wealthy couldn’t see the poor, they seemed better able to pretend they didn’t exist. Gerard hated the blindness to reality that most people expressed. Was it the medication? He’d heard things, bad things, but he had witnessed worse.

The artist in him caused Gerard to like the balcony a great deal. Being so high up, he felt free and connected to the sky, or at the very least, the dome that covered Battery City and protected it from the harsh ultraviolet rays of the sun now that the ozone layer was so badly damaged following the Helium Wars. So too, it protected them from the acid rain storms that often raged across the desert. At times the acid build up in the sky could be so toxic and dangerous that the dome had to be re-coated regularly - a particularly mammoth task that seemed almost never ending and was carried out by drones.

*

Today, Gerard was sitting alone on the couch turning a box of pills in his hands, and a glass of water stood on the coffee table in front of him. He seemed somehow both distracted and deep in thought as he stared into the middle-distance, focused on nothing. He didn’t even notice his and Mikey’s personal assistant arriving to stand next to the couch.

Gerard didn’t like their PA, Petra. Mikey did, but then, Mikey was younger, fully indoctrinated and much more trusting. To Gerard, Petra seemed cold and impersonal and he had long since suspected that she was Korse’s eyes and ears in their home. He also had the very distinct impression that she thought he hadn’t accepted BLI and its phoney overly-published benevolent purpose. She would be right too and because of this, he was always careful around her; the last thing he wanted was to give Korse a reason to subject him to the needles, drugs and hypnosis again. He was afraid that this time the indoctrination might work. He could not, would not, allow it.

Slightly more than three years earlier, Exterminator Korse had killed his and Mikey’s dad. He had sworn revenge against BLI and he refused to fall prey to their brainwashing. Right now, there was a new challenge: the box of pills. They had to be avoided at all costs, but first he had to find a BLI-Friendly way to refuse or his hidden hatred would be made known for all to see. There would be a time for that, but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Have you taken your medication yet, Gerard?” The woman asked, her voice stiff and almost... yes, almost cold.

Gerard looked up slowly, as if returning to the present was an effort or an act of sheer will, draining his energy. Even as he looked up, his eyes were still unfocused and his expression blank. Slowly, a questioning look graced his face and he spoke.

“Did you say something?”  
“I asked if you had taken your medication yet,” the assistant repeated, tipping her head as if to press the matter.  
“No,” he frowned looking back down at the box for a moment before looking up again. “I haven’t.”  
“Do you need more water?” The frosty reply was bordering on condescending and Gerard’s features hardened in response.  
“No, Petra,” he replied in a similar tone, throwing the box onto the coffee table and getting to his feet to offset the power imbalance of the assistant almost leaning over him. “What I want is an explanation.”

Petra’s expression morphed into a puzzled stare as she glanced at the box on the glass table before staring back at Gerard.

“What is there to explain? You have been allocated the pills and...”  
“Why?” He snapped, cutting her off mid-sentence. “I’m thirteen. No one gets these pills until they’re sixteen. How come I’m getting them three years early?”  
“Your sponsor must think of you as an adult,” she replied stiffly.

Gerard took a slow, deep breath, closed his eyes and clenched his fists before shaking his head. Looking up once more, he scowled as he saw she had picked up the box and was trying to hand it to him.

“My sponsor?” He replied through gritted teeth. “You mean Exterminator Korse?”  
“Naturally.”  
“Naturally?” Gerard nodded as he stepped away, refusing to take the box from her.  
“He is yours and Mikey’s sponsor,” her tone continued, both clipped and impatient. “Who else would I be referring to? He brought you to BLI after you were orphaned, found you a career within BLI, housed you!” She swept her arm out to indicate the large and expensive apartment. “What he’s done for you is an honour.”  
“An honour?”

Gerard’s eyes widened and he bit his tongue to stop himself reacting further. He knew he had to be careful. If Korse heard of his outburst, it wouldn’t take him long to realise that the memory removal and brainwashing techniques hadn’t worked quite so well on the older of the two brothers as they had on Mikey. He had lasted three years without further treatments, pretending that the first series had worked and that he had forgotten his family. He wasn’t about to throw that away for lack of control and hatred of the Exterminator.

“BLI And Korse both get something in return,” he replied, managing to calm himself quickly. “I doubt he would have made Senior so quickly if it hadn’t been for us.”  
“So you all benefit from the arrangement?” Petra raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with that? You and Mikey have the honour of being the faces of BLI in the advertising and promotional campaigns and Exterminator Korse gains a higher profile. But he rightly rises through the ranks because of his ability, not his connections.”

Gerard shook his head and marched over to the large windows that took up almost an entire wall. Gazing out over the city he both loved and hated, his heart sank. While promoting BLI’s products, he had seen the corruption, manipulation and the dictatorial control over almost everything. Even the use of the Way brothers to represent BLI in campaigns was calculated. Both boys were cute and adorable and it was clear to everyone that they would turn into handsome young men. Perfect for advertising. Korse had also noted that their friend, whom Gerard had met at ballet class would perhaps be drafted in; they were similar in looks enough to pass as a third brother. BLI liked to promote themselves as a family orientated operation but the truth was much more sinister.

Better Living Industries employed entire families. In their literature, the reasoning was benevolent which suggested that it promoted a community spirit. Gerard knew, however, that their real motives centred around control. If an entire family worked for BLI they were much easier to manage and control - children would be raised in a system where complaints and rejecting BLI’s methods was simply not permitted. On an ongoing basis, control would only get tighter as people born into the system were raised to comply.

How did Gerard know this? Sadly, from terrifying personal experience. Still frighteningly fresh in his mind - kept there by a sheer act of will, so he couldn’t forget - at the age of only ten, he had witnessed Korse murder his and Mikey’s dad for refusing to join BLI. The worst of it being that the now senior Exterminator, who was also their sponsor and guardian, had opted to kill his own brother to remain loyal to BLI. And in that reality lay the real terror - Korse, originally Grant Way, was their uncle. This man, this evil and cruel man, now calling himself Korse was nothing like the man that Gerard had known and loved while growing up. To cope, Gerard much preferred to think about it in the past tense - utterly rejecting all he stood for and everything he had done to hurt them. The hardest part was knowing that following his indoctrination, Mikey had no recollection of Korse other than his current role. Gerard, however, vividly remembered that final scene; he doubted it would ever leave him.

***

_The Way family lived in a typical small but comfortable family apartment in Battery City. Uncle Grant had been a frequent visitor until he started working for BLI, after which they hadn’t seen him for months. Their dad had called him several times to invite him for Sunday lunch or to a sporting event, but it had always deteriorated into an argument. Gerard had no idea why they were arguing or why he had stopped coming to visit, but he remembered that when he arrived on that fateful day, they were all pleased to see him... at first._

_Gerard and Mikey had been playing happily in one corner when their dad and uncle had begun arguing in the centre of the room. At first they kept their voices low, but it didn’t take long for the argument to escalate in both anger and volume._

_“What is this, Grant?” Don Way waved the letter in his hand at his brother. “Some sort of joke?”  
“Dad, look!” the small, dark-haired, ten-year-old Gerard called excitedly from under the table in the corner of the room._

_Don spared a glance toward his two sons playing nearby. Both wore capes fashioned from towels and cardboard cut-out masks coloured messily in bright red, green, blue and yellow. He couldn’t help but share a smile with his eldest son, Gerard; he was never happier than when he was playing at being superheroes with his younger brother, Mikey._

_“Who are you today, Gerard?” Don asked, momentarily ignoring his brother standing in front of him._  
_“Raygun Jones,” Gerard grinned, extending his hand as if it were a gun and making ‘zapping’ noises._  
_“Ooh, be careful, Gerard, you nearly got me then!” Don laughed. “What about you, Mikey? Who are you?”_  
_“I’m Snake Boy!” he giggled, flopping down onto his belly and pretending to slither along the floor, almost pulling his shirt out of shape as the friction from the carpet held it in place.  
_ _“Snake Boy only has one weakness!” Gerard cried loudly. “Tickling!”_

_Gerard’s excited laughter mixed harmoniously with Mikey’s helpless giggles as he dug his hands into his brother’s sides and tickled him furiously until he was breathless and gasping. Falling forward and rolling to lie on his back as Mikey sat up, pulling irregular breaths in sharply. Despite Mikey’s still obvious amusement, it became clear to Gerard that he had been overenthusiastic and he rose immediately and began rubbing small comforting circles on his back until he settled._

_Don smiled at the sight; they were so close and always looked out for each other, he hoped it would always be that way._

_Grant, impatient and tired of waiting, took his brother by the elbow and steered him to the back of the room._

_“This isn’t a request, Don, don’t you understand?”_  
_“I’m not interested in working for BLI,” Don shook his head. “I have a job.”_  
_“Not anymore, you don’t.”_  
_“What are you talking about? Not anymore?” Don frowned deeply at Grant. “What have you done?”_  
_“I haven’t done anything!” Grant objected vehemently. “BLI employ entire families, you know that.”_  
_“What, so now you’ve signed up to their brainwashing, we all have to?” Don was furious and struggling to hide it in front of his sons._

_Gerard looked up and frowned lightly, giving his father a brief wave and a smile._

_“It’s not brainwashing!” Grant replied through gritted teeth. “It’s training, indoctrination.”_  
_“It’s brainwashing and propaganda!” Don fumed. “Why can’t you see that?”_  
_“You sound like you’ve been talking to rebels,” Grant scowled angrily._  
_“Rebels?” Don laughed, uncertain if Grant was actually serious. “You mean people who just want to get on with their lives?”_  
_“It’s not that simple. There are four acceptable levels of existence...” Grant began to explain._  
_“I’ve heard them called ‘four acceptable levels of death’.”_

_Grant scowled angrily, but there was something underlying his anger. It looked like fear._

_“As you begin to purify and…”_  
_“Can you hear yourself talk?” Don interrupted. “Purify? This isn’t an organisation it’s a cult!”_  
_“Dad?” Gerard was standing near to the two men now, neither having heard him approach. “Is everything okay?”_

_Don looked down; his son appeared nervous, possibly distressed at the raised, angry voices. Thankfully, Mikey still seemed oblivious and had gone back to adding yet more colour onto his already garish mask._

_“Everything’s fine, Gerard,” he ruffled his son’s hair. “Uncle Grant and I are just talking grown-up stuff. Go help Mikey with his colouring.”_

_Gerard nodded, still uncertain but not wanting to be any trouble. He had noticed that recently his father and uncle had begun to argue a lot. He hoped it wouldn’t happen to him and Mikey as they got older – no, he decided, they would always be close. Returning to sit with Mikey, Gerard kept one ear on the conversation on the other side of the room; there was something about it that troubled him._

_“Look, Don, this is not up for discussion,” Grant continued. “You work for BLI now. I’m here to finalise the family’s transition.”_

_Grant took his brother firmly by the shoulders and looked into his eyes._

_“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” he began, giving Don a gently shake before lowering his arms. I’m not here to convince you, I’m here to take you to BLI. It’s my job.”_  
_“What job?”_  
_“I’m an exterminator. I help keep BLI and Battery City perfect.”_

_Don Way shook his head in a combination of sadness, anger and sheer disbelief._

_“It’s far from perfect! Look, Grant, I’m not working for BLI and that’s final!” he snapped gritting his teeth._  
_“If you don’t come with me, and I mean all of you,” he tipped his head to indicate that he also meant the children, “I’m authorised… I’m ordered to commit you to the fourth level of existence.”_  
_“The fourth level…? I never thought I’d ever say this, Grant, but I want you out of my home. How dare you come in here and threaten us…”_

_Pulling out his gun from its holster, Grant stared at his brother with an expression that suddenly bordered on vacant, even cold. Don frowned deeply with uncertainty and the abrupt pause in the conversation drew Gerard’s attention once more; his eyes widening with surprise as he saw the gun in Uncle Grant’s hand._

_“What are you going to do, Grant? Kill us all?”  
“No, we can indoctrinate the children.”_

_Don’s eyes flew open in a wild fury at the suggestion that his own brother could be suggesting taking his boys to BLI to be programmed._

_“Get out!” he raged, moving forward to push Grant towards the door._

_A blinding white-hot flash of light filled the room and Gerard found himself scrambling to his feet as his father was falling to the floor._

_“No!”_

_The sudden movement and the horror in Gerard’s tone drew Mikey’s attention and the younger boy was now also on his feet, clinging to Gerard, as he looked with fear and uncertainty at the lifeless body of their father._

_“Gee?” Mikey began in a small voice.  
“It’s… How can…” Gerard’s young mind, having witnessed his father’s murder at the hands of his uncle, was beyond confused._

_Torn between running to his father’s side and comforting Mikey, Gerard was startled as Uncle Grant turned sharply, staring harshly at the two boys as he replaced his gun in its holster. There was something glacial in his stare that terrified Gerard; this was suddenly not the man he knew. This man was a stranger._

_Gerard shrank back, hugging Mikey protectively as Grant moved quickly towards them. Pulling free, Mikey ran forward toward his father and Gerard’s eyes widened in panic at the idea of the six-year-old finding their father dead. It was almost a blessing when Grant stopped him, but the horror of the fact that he was the murderer did nothing to make Gerard feel that Mikey was any safer._

_“Let him go!” he yelled as he saw Mikey’s fearful expression as Grant gripped his arm painfully tight._

_Without even a word, Grant seized Gerard by an arm and, pulling them apart, dragged them both towards the door._

_“No! Let go!” Gerard screamed as he pulled frantically against the firm grip, twisting his body to look back into the room, desperate for his father to still be alive. Searching for any sign of life in the still and silent body. “Dad!” he cried as his vision misted over._

***

Turning back to face Petra, Gerard tried to hide the pain in his eyes as once again, the terrible memory had washed over him.

“I want an explanation for the pills,” he repeated his request from earlier.  
“Very well,” she replied in a clipped tone. “I’ll find out a precise reason and explain it to you.”

Gerard frowned; her words sounded very much like condescension.

Hearing the door open suddenly, Gerard looked up as Mikey slunk into the room, throwing his backpack on the couch.

“Well?” He frowned, looking first at Gerard, then Petra before glancing back to Gerard, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke again. “What’s so urgent?”

Gerard stared blankly back, oblivious to what he was referring to. Within moments, the brothers had reached the same conclusion and both turned to Petra with questioning eyes.


	3. It’s an honour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard is presented with an impossible dilemma and the boy from the desert wakes up

Without missing a beat and completely ignoring Mikey’s annoyance and impatience at being forced to leave Karate Class without explanation other than that something urgent needed his attention, Petra pushed one side of her platinum blonde, jaw-length hair behind her ear and began.

“Ah, good, you’re here, take a seat both of you and, Gerard, take your pill.”

Gerard glowered in response; it was as if she was purposely goading him to lose his temper.

“Explanation first,” he replied through gritted teeth, “and don’t tell me to sit in my own home, I’m not a child.”  
“I’m afraid until you reach sixteen, Gerard, that’s exactly what you are,” Petra replied curtly.  
“Well, if I’m still a child, I don’t need the pills, do I?” Gerard smiled sweetly in return.

Petra glared at Gerard and he glared back. His was a dark stare, old before his time, Gerard’s eyes portrayed a swirling mixture of emotions, some of which, if asked, he couldn’t even name - but he felt them, he felt them all and over time they were all merging into a giant ball of hatred and disgust.

Petra looked away first, unnerved by the depth of feeling barely hidden behind his dark eyes. He knew as she turned her eyes away that she knew, really knew that the indoctrination hadn’t worked with him. He could almost see the cogs turning in her mind, mentally constructing the report she would later write to Korse. He knew however that it wasn’t that simple, she could write whatever she liked but she still had to prove it to Korse and that wouldn’t be as easy as she probably thought. He had two advantages he knew he could rely on; firstly, Korse’s arrogance. Korse was intelligent, only a fool would doubt that. Petra was right about one thing, he was rising through the ranks because he was very good... no, astonishingly good at his job, but, he was also arrogant. Korse had overseen Gerard’s and Mikey’s indoctrination personally and as such, once satisfied he had been successful, it would take a great deal to convince him otherwise. Secondly, Gerard could act. H e always had a flare for drama and he knew how to use those abilities to his advantage. He would not suffer indoctrination again. No, never again.

“What pills?” Mikey asked, frowning. “Have I walked in on something?”

Gerard turned a broad smile toward his younger; he couldn’t help but notice that at aged ten and despite BLI’s brainwashing, Mikey seemed to be older than his years also. Perhaps it was their lifestyle, or even the adulation both boys received from all ages of Battery City citizens but Gerard couldn’t help but wonder... even hope that it meant Mikey’s memories were still intact, somewhere, deeply buried perhaps, but there.

“There’s been a mix up,” Gerard replied brightly. “I’ve been given a box of Kanslokal, three years too early.”  
“Is that the emergency?” Mikey raised an eyebrow. “I left karate for a prescription mix up? I’m teaching now, you know...”  
“No, that’s not it,” Gerard interrupted shaking his head, “I didn’t even know there was an emergency.” Turning back to face Petra, he added: “Nobody told me.”  
“I didn’t see the point of telling you twice,” Petra replied,refusing to be drawn by Gerard’s accusatory tone, her tone and gaze both aloof.  
“Well?” Gerard prompted with a scowl. “Are you going to tell us now?”  
“I am, please sit down.”

While Mikey thought nothing of the request and merely flopped down into the deep and comfortable white leather couch next to his backpack, Gerard frowned deeply for a moment before compromising by seeking a perch on the arm of the couch.

Petra’s lips turned up in what he could only describe as not quite a smile, not quite a smirk. The expression was beyond her normal arrogance and the extra element, that he couldn’t yet place, unnerved him deeply. Gerard found himself trying hard not to react to the feeling of power she seemed to exude. It was equally difficult for him to keep his own expression from changing and revealing how oddly nervous he suddenly felt. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? After all, what could she do to him? As much as he hated it, he was a high-profile ward of BLI under the guardianship of a senior Exterminator? There was nothing she could do to touch him, surely? Gerard was about to discover that the additional element to her arrogant demeanour was gloating.

“You’ve both been granted one of BLI’s highest honours,” she continued. As she stared at Gerard, he noted that her strange smile had morphed into a full smirk. “You are to dress in your finest clothes, in one hour you will be driven to Traitor’s Square and you will oversee and give the orders for the extermination of three rebel traitors and enemies of BLI.”  
“Wow!” Mikey exclaimed. “Really?”  
“Yes, Mikey, really,” her smirk broadened as she thought how his reaction would affect Gerard.  
“I’m getting changed!” He headed quickly off to his room, calling behind him: “And showered!”

Petra turned to face Gerard; now trembling slightly, his naturally pale features seemed drained of all colour. His jaw clamped and rigid, and his eyes wide.

“Nothing to say, Gerard?” She asked; her satisfaction at his obvious distress almost filling the room.  
“I...” he swallowed hard as he realised his voice was shaking even more than his hands. “I’ll get changed.”

Watching as Gerard headed slowly to his room, she called after him.

“Of course, as the older brother, it will be you giving the order.”  
“And what if...” he began, still with his back to her.  
“What if you want to pass that honour to Mikey? How thoughtful of you.” she interrupted. “Of course you can. It sounds as though he would be thrilled.”

Gerard stopped dead in his tracks for a moment, but refused to turn. The thought of what he was expected to do distressed and sickened him but what were his options? Refuse? Defy BLI and almost certainly be taken for indoctrination again, or defer to Mikey and allow him to become a murderer? Both were impossible. Continuing to walk his room, Gerard grimaced as she added:

“I’m glad you’re so overwhelmed by the honour, Gerard,” she laughed cruelly. “I don’t think I’ve even seen you speechless.”

*

Inside an abandoned and run down pawn shop four miles from the border of Zones 4 and 5, Doctor Death Defying’s camp of war veteran rebels rested for the evening. There were only five of them now - there had been six, but their commander Dr Phillip Star had been killed helping an injured female running from a patrol of draculoids. That more than anything had fired their desire for revenge against BLI. He had just been doing what he was trained for, he had fought during the Helium wars for what he hoped would be a better world, but that world had let them all down badly and he had paid the ultimate price. Now the remaining members had named themselves the Rebel Stars in his honour. Their raids against BLI and Battery City had been small and largely unsuccessful but they were learning and their determination had paid off. Their last raid had been a success - medical supplies, batteries, water and food - it was quite a haul.

The door opened to what had once been a storage room and the man known as Flex, a physical therapist in the camp poked his head in.

“Hey, Doc, how’s our new little star doing?” He asked. “Any idea who he is?”  
“No,” Death Defying shook his head, “no ID, nothing. Well, no, not nothing.”

He held up a small, die-cast toy plane and piece of blanket embroidered with blue smiley-faced stars.

“He had these.”  
“Well, what do you know!” He grinned. “He is a star after all!”  
“Yeah,” Death chuckled. “Looks like the Phoenix Witch Wanted us to find him.”

Death gave a deep sigh as he looked down at the boy, he had noted already his injuries and condition, but ran through it again to update Flex.

“I’ve used some of the burn lotion on him and I’ve got his temperature down to normal, which looked a bit touch and go for a while. He’s taken quite the blow to his head.”  
“Attacked?” Flex asked.  
“Judging by his other injuries I’d say either that or maybe a really bad car crash. Several contusions, possibly a fractured left wrist, he’s at least dislocated the lunate though.”  
“I can sort that out,” Flex offered.  
“Thanks, Flex, that’s more your area than mine anyway. Probably going to be seriously concussed too. I’m gonna keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t develop compression.”

Flex nodded, he knew about the seriousness of the possible result of a head injury - a fatality, even at this stage, couldn’t be ruled out.

“Anything I can do, Doc?”  
“No, I don’t...”

Distracted by a faint murmur, Death turned his head to see the young boy’s eyelids fluttering slightly.

“Yeah, can you get a bottle of water? Looks like he’s waking up.”  
“Sure D, Be right back,” Flex replied, leaving the door to swing closed behind him.

Doctor Death Defying looked down at his young charge and pursed his lips. He had no idea what the poor boy had been through, but whatever it had been, waking to strangers in an abandoned pawn shop was almost certainly going to be a shock and he had to manage that as best he could. The only thing that worked in his favour was that due to his injuries, the boy couldn’t simply race out of the building - after all, he was in no position to chase after him.

Death looked down at the wheelchair that had become part of his everyday life since the late stages of the Helium Wars when the battalion’s ambulance was ambushed and destroyed. It had been a sickeningly cruel and cowardly attack. They had been sent into a heavy militarised zone full of casualties, or so he had thought. The orders were fake and the ambush caught them unawares. With limited weaponry, the troop of medics didn’t stand a chance and far too many men were needlessly killed or severely injured that day. He had been one of those casualties who had managed to survive, but not without losing the use of his legs.

Pulled from his reverie by a light croaking sound, he looked at the boy again and tried to gauge how he was feeling and from the expression on the boy’s face, he had to guess - scared and in pain.

“Hey, relax, kid,” he spoke softly, placing a folded damp cloth on the boy’s forehead. “You’re safe and you’re alive.”  
“Where...?” He whispered, his voice scratchy and barely audible.  
“We found you in the desert,” Death explained, whilst checking his pulse. “I’m a doctor. You’ve been pretty badly toasted by the sun, you were dehydrated but you’re improving,” he pointed to the saline drip hanging from a hook above the boy’s head. “Do you know what happened to you?”

The boy stared up, it seemed that a million thoughts were racing through his head as he lay trying hard to find the answer to the question.

“Don’t worry, kid,” Death shook his head. “Do you remember anything? Your name? Where you live?”

As Death stared at the boy, he noticed him welling up, precious water being lost to painful tears.

“Hey, come on, don’t cry,” Death offered a kind smile. “You just woke up, it’s pretty normal to forget. And,” he tipped his head sympathetically, “you’ve had quite the knock to you’re head. Don’t worry kid, you’ll be up and about in no time and you’ll remember everything. Okay?”

They boy nodded, still clearly uncertain but clinging to the man’s words.

“Hey, Death, I got your water,” the tall thin man known as Flex pushed the door open resulting in what emerged as a small high-pitched squeak from the boy.  
“Death?” He whispered, staring up, wide-eyed and afraid.

Death chuckled and shook his head.

“Don’t worry, kid,” he smiled. “It’s like a code name, we all have them.”  
“All?”  
“Yeah, I’m Doctor Death Defying and this is Flex, our physical therapist, he’s gonna sort out your wrist. There’re a few more in the camp, you’ll meet them when you feel better. But what do we call you?”  
“I can’t remember,” the boy replied, clearly still upset.  
“Well, how about we give you a code name too?” Death smiled, pleased to see it mirrored on the boy’s face.  
“Well, this camp is named after our commander, Phillip Star, so, there’s your last name. And...”  
Death glanced around the room looking for inspiration. Eventually his gaze landed on the small toy plane he had found in the boy’s pocket.

“How about, Jet? Jet Star? How does that sound to you kid? You like it?”

The boy’s smile broadened momentarily, before the stretching of his sunburnt face caused him to lose it again. Nodding briefly, the boy offered a faint smile once more.

“Right then, Jet, let’s get you better,” Death nodded taking the proffered bottle from Flex and helping Jet to drink from it. “You’ll be fine in no time.”


	4. Gerard has an impossible choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard must choose between becoming a murderer of so-called traitors or allowing the eager Mikey to give the order.

Frankie didn’t even want to open his eyes, he was too afraid. He wasn’t even certain he had been unconscious, let alone how long, and if he opened his eyes he feared that his guardian - his tormentor - would still be standing over him. His first clue that he was alone was the silence. Lawson breathed heavily and loudly; not through any medical condition but merely due to lack of fitness and a chronic smoking habit. Smoking cigarettes had long since been made illegal, but like any drug, for the right price they were still available and the better part of the allowance Lawson received from BLI to take care of Frankie was spent on his addiction.

The room hung in silence and finally, but discreetly, Frankie opened his eyes. It was dark; partly because he was half lying under the bed but also because it seemed that many hours had passed. Reaching up to touch his face, it was difficult to decide what upset him more, the blood dried and caked on his cheek and around his mouth, the tenderness he knew would be a bruise, or rather a series of bruises, or the puffing around his left eye that prevented it opening fully.

He moved on to counting his limbs before trying to move each one individually. Slowly he realised that, although he was in a lot of pain and he felt stiff and sore in muscles he didn’t even know he had, he was alive, intact and nothing seemed to be broken. Well, nothing physical anyway. He squeezed his eyes shut suddenly as both the physical and emotional pain of the attack flooded his mind once more. He didn’t want to cry, but the tears had already left his eyes and he sniffed, trying hard to hold in his emotions. Rolling over, he bit his lip in a failed attempt to prevent the sharp cry of pain emerging. How had he managed to forget that the belt buckle had torn into his back? He cursed his inability to keep his agony from surfacing vocally and tried again to move, this time by shuffling backwards. Somewhat more successful, Frankie was still forced to grit his teeth to keep all sounds inside.

Once standing, Frankie walked into his bathroom and looked over his shoulder to see his back in the mirror. As he did, he also saw his face and in doing so, stinging tears pricked at his eyes once more; he was certain that one day, either by accident or design, Lawson would kill him. Opening a small cabinet, Frankie fished out a medical kit; it was hardly the first time Lawson had beat him until he bruised or bled. Taking out a half used tube of antiseptic cream, he applied it to a long strip of plastic and, using his mirror as a guide, he applied it to the cuts on his back, occasionally wincing as even the light pressure caused the cuts to sting. He didn’t want to, but his eyes misted as he applied the cream to the last one. Waiting as it soaked in, he gently sponged the blood from his face and lightly pressed a cold damp folded face cloth over his swollen eye. His shoulders sagged as he looked in the mirror and realised the damage Lawson had caused would mean he would not be allowed to leave the apartment for several days.

It was ironic in the worst possible way. Most orphans under the care of BLI lived in the dormitories near BLI Headquarters in the centre of the city, but Frankie had a guardian because repeated illnesses when he was very young had meant he required more attentive care. Guardians were well paid to take care of their wards but of course, that unfortunately meant that not all those who applied for the positions had the best interests of the children at heart. Doug Lawson was one of those people, more interested in using the money for drinking and gambling than taking care of the young boy. Many times, Frankie had tried to run away but he was always found by the Battery City Police and returned to Lawson - nobody ever listened to his desperate pleading.  
Why ironic? Because whilst Frankie’s early childhood illnesses had lessened in intensity, he was now more likely to be kept home from school or ballet because of yet another beating masquerading as a mystery illness. If he were in the dormitories he would be decidedly healthier than here with this cruel man.

Tonight he was determined to leave for good. He had no idea what he would do or where he would go, but whatever happened it had to be better than what he was dealing with, surely? He didn’t need much, he didn’t have much, but he spent the next thirty minutes meticulously packing everything into what on him was a very large backpack. Some clothes, toiletries, his small tool kit that he had collected slowly over the previous two years and mostly gifts from Gerard and his most prized possessions - a book on engineering and small electronic device that he built himself, which allowed him to override most, if not all, electrically powered locks. The backpack was heavy, for the small and slight boy, but he knew he could manage. He hoped that even temporarily, Gerard would help him, even if it was just a few carbons so that he could establish a new home and a job. He wasn’t averse to hard work and he was extremely gifted when it came to electronics; one of the few things he was interested in. Yes, he would find a home, a job and he would at last be free of the drunken thug who called himself his guardian.

*

“Come on, Gee!” Mikey called, eager to leave and banging a fist on the still closed door. “The car’s here.”

Inside his room, Gerard hadn’t managed to think of a way to escape their predicament. The car had arrived and was taking them to Traitor’s Square. He had witnessed the scene many times. The square would be lit brightly, alcohol would be freely available, as would recreational drugs and porno droids. There would be almost a carnival atmosphere with the main attraction being the Way brothers - the faces of BLI - there to order the execution of three rebels. Mikey was excited but Gerard was frantic. He had to choose between giving the order himself or handing over the responsibility to Mikey. The most frustrating part was that Mikey really wanted to do it and would be annoyed with him if Gerard kept the _honour_ for himself. In addition to taking his memories, Korse had twisted Mikey’s sense of right and wrong. He had turned him into a BLI loving citizen who believed that they could do no wrong and that the execution of rebels was in the best interests of Battery City. It pained him to see Mikey so bereft of sympathy for people who wanted to simply live their lives without BLI’s overbearing presence - like their father had said he wanted, moments before Korse killed him.

Gerard exhaled deeply, a great weight resting on his shoulders. This night, one of them was to become a murderer and realistically he knew it had to be him. Mikey would pout and complain and probably hate him for a couple of hours for taking the so-called honour, but he couldn’t let him be a murderer. Gerard had vowed to protect him. He had been unable to prevent Korse from indoctrinating him and he hated himself for the fact that he was just a boy. Growing up, Mikey had always looked up to his big brother, he was his hero and Gerard was determined to always remain his hero. One day, Mikey would see BLI and Korse for what they really were and when that day came, Gerard wanted him to know he had been protected from the worst that BLI threw at them, otherwise Mikey would be devastated by the knowledge of what he had done. But what about himself? It was a weight he was prepared to bear; Mikey was worth any weight, any pain. Gerard would not let him be hurt again.

Pulling on the jacket of his black suit, Gerard looked at himself in the large free-standing mirror next to his wardrobe. He looked immaculate. Dressed entirely in black; it seemed fitting for what he was expected to do. His normally pale features were highlighted further by the impenetrable blackness of the suit, or was he simply paler than usual? He felt a little lightheaded, even nauseous. It seemed that all the blood had drained from his face and he felt himself still trembling, possibly even more than before. He swallowed hard; he had to stop shaking or Petra would delight in pointing it out all the more. Almost certainly she would goad him about how he felt, ordering his first execution. How he was so lucky, so privileged. He felt faint even imagining the conversation.

“Gee!” Mikey hammered on the door once more.  
“I’m coming.” His voice was cracked and barely above a whisper. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “I’m coming!”  
“Well, come on then! The driver’s waiting.”

Emerging from his room, the first thing he noticed was Petra’s smirk broadening into a cruel grin as she saw his pale, sunken features.

“Well, don’t you look fine, Gerard,” she commented. “All ready for your first execution. You must be so excited.”  
“Yeah,” he croaked, wishing he could hide his feelings better. Yes, he could act, but this was too much to ask. “Of course I am.”  
“Well, you don’t look it,” Mikey laughed. “You look like you’re about to pass out!”  
“Nerves,” he managed by way of explanation.  
“Nerves?” Mikey laughed again, finding even the idea hilarious. “You? Who are you trying to kid?”  
“Don’t tease your brother, Mikey,” Petra pretended to scold. “He just wants to be sure it all goes perfectly, don’t you, Gerard? You don’t want your first execution to go wrong, do you? You want to make BLI proud?”

Gerard stared at her, only to find her staring back. This time she had the advantage and she was not about to look away. This was it, this was the way she would prove to Exterminator Korse that Gerard was not indoctrinated and merely pretending. She had him in her sights and she was not backing down.

“Of course,” he muttered, grimly as Mikey continued to chuckle. “Will someone be there to instruct me?” He asked through a tightly clamped jaw.  
“Exterminator Korse will instruct you himself. Oh, and I don’t want to make you more nervous than you already are, but I’ve arranged for all the BLI Directors to attend also. Your big moment of glory in the name of BLI will be witnessed by them as well as hundreds of civilians, maybe thousands.”

Gerard and Petra stared at one another; if he was going to become a murderer anyway... The temptation tugged at him, willing him to end it now, but he knew that realistically it wouldn’t end there. All it would achieve would be to horrify Mikey and get himself both arrested and once more subjected to long needles, hypnosis and brainwashing. Well, this was it, there was nothing more he could do to delay and there seemed no escaping it.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Let’s go.”

He had no sooner spoken the words when the intercom buzzed loudly. Gerard turned, raising his eyebrows in surprise; their driver had never been so impatient before.

“What’s his problem?” Mikey grumbled. “We’re not late, why can’t he wait just a couple of minutes.”

Walking briskly to the intercom, he snatched up the handset and held it to his ear.

“We’re coming!” He snapped. “Don’t be so impatient.”

Gerard took a deep breath; he couldn’t help but wonder who was the more impatient, Mikey or the driver. Mikey hadn’t always been impatient. Gerard had noticed it starting not long after his indoctrination. Had it been the cause, or was there some other underlying factor? Gerard had his own theory, and he clung to it like a baby to its mother - it helped him believe that Mikey had retained his memories, set deep inside and that the impatience was a result of his brain fighting with itself to remember. He had no proof and no way to find out, but the theory encouraged him. He desperately wanted to believe that one day, when they were free, Mikey would remember everything and be his true self once more.

“Oh!”

Mikey suddenly sounded contrite, dragging Gerard from his reverie to wonder what was happening. Had the execution been cancelled? Could he be that lucky?

“Sure,” Mikey continued. “Can you bring him up on the express elevator.”  
“What’s up, Mikes?” Gerard’s brow furrowed. “Is it the driver?”

Mikey turned to face his brother, he appeared both worried but also a little downcast and disappointed.

“It was Edward,” he began.  
“Security?” Gerard gasped. “What’s happened? Who’s coming up?”  
“Frankie,” Mikey nodded to the door to the express elevator, which opened directly into their living room and could be accessed only by a handful of people, and even then, apart from when used by Gerard, Mikey, Petra or Korse, could only be opened by someone already inside the apartment.

Gerard appeared puzzled; Frankie had visited only hours before, why was he back so soon? And more worrying, why did Mikey seem so concerned.

“I’m sorry, Gee,” Mikey sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “We won’t be going to the execution tonight.”  
“Is he okay?” Gerard replied, almost not registering that somehow the miracle he had prayed for had been granted.

Petra’s mouth fell open at the words; this could simply not be happening. She had taken a lot of time and trouble to arrange what she knew would be an unbearable task for Gerard and he was mere minutes away from either showing himself to be a traitor to BLI or resigning himself to the inevitability of carrying out his worst, soul destroying nightmare.

“You can’t back out,” she insisted. “They’re waiting for you. This is important!”

As she spoke she grew increasingly shrill. Her eyes widening, she stepped towards them, pulling at Mikey’s arm.

“You have to be there, it’s arranged!”  
“Frankie’s our friend,” Mikey replied, raising an eyebrow at her response. “Gee?”

Mikey looked guiltily at Gerard. He felt bad for suggesting cancelling the ceremony, but he couldn’t leave Frankie alone, not now.

“There’ll be plenty of other opportunities,” Gerard continued with the pretence that he relished the idea of the execution. “But we need to be here for Frankie.”  
“Well, I’m sure Mikey...” Petra began, only to be cut off by Gerard.  
“Both of us,” he insisted. “Petra, could you send our apologies to Exterminator Korse and ask the driver to wait in case we need to take Frankie to the hospital.”  
“I... but...” Petra stammered, panicking at the idea of having to pass on the news to Exterminator Korse; even though he was still only a middle-ranking Exterminator, Korse was formidable and terrifying.  
“What’s happened?” Gerard continued, ignoring, but quietly enjoying Petra’s discomfort.  
“Edward said Lawson’s beat him really bad this time,” Mikey looked deeply troubled. “He got to the lobby and passed out.”  
“He can stay here,” Gerard replied to Mikey’s relief. “We can look after him.”  
“No, that won’t be...” Petra began again, her forthrightness suddenly absent from her tone.  
“Petra,” Gerard cocked his head as the elevator arrived. “You have arrangements to make. Go,” he pressed, before adding, “like you said, they’ll be waiting.”

Internally, Petra shuddered. Explaining their absence to Korse was an unpleasant enough task without also having been denied the chance to show Gerard’s true colours. But what could she do? She could only push the matter as long as Mikey wanted to go. His apparent reluctant decision to stay had handed Gerard exactly what he wanted and inside, she was furious.

For his own part, Gerard felt simultaneously relieved, elated and guilty that he took pleasure in the moment despite Frankie’s injuries. However, the reality was that his best friend was badly hurt, and that was what mattered now, nothing else and certainly not Petra.


	5. Petra makes her move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Gerard is looking after Frankie, he’s not watching his back

As the elevator doors opened, a gasp of surprise slipped from Mikey’s lips. He had seen Frankie with the yellow tinged remnants of bruises before, and he even knew why, but he had never seen him fresh from a beating until now. Lawson never allowed Frankie to leave the apartment until most if not all the signs of a beating were gone. He wondered how this time it was different but Gerard already knew; as Edward, their tall, broad and imposing security manager, carried the unconscious boy into the living room, Gerard spied the oversized backpack still sitting on the floor at the back of the elevator. Frankie had run away, again. However this time it was different, he had run to Gerard and Mikey. Frankie had run away at least half a dozen times previously and each time, the Battery City police had found him and returned him, despite his protestations, to his cruel, selfish and perennially drunk guardian. On each occasion, Frankie had emerged over a month later, quiet and sullen. Now Gerard knew why and he was not about to let it happen again.

“Edward, take him to my room, please and...” he looked around; Petra was nowhere to be seen - it was the only time he had wanted to see her, but a small smile did cross his lips knowing that she was somewhere contacting Korse. “Mikey can you call Dr Roby?”  
“Sure, Gee,” Mikey replied, heading for the phone as Gerard retrieved Frankie’s backpack.

Following Edward into his room, Gerard straightened out the duvet on his bed to allow him to lie Frankie down comfortably. Even in his unconscious state, Frankie let out a quiet whimper as Edward lowered him gently down onto the bed.

“What did he say?” Gerard asked, looking down at the boy who seemed suddenly smaller and more fragile than he had when he had returned home earlier.  
“Say?” Edward asked with a distinct sound of confusion in his tone.  
“Frankie,” Gerard prompted. ‘When he arrived. What did he say?”  
“Nothing,” Edward replied, now understanding what Gerard meant. “Ah, no, he passed out pretty much as he walked in. Practically fell through the doors.”  
“But you said...” Gerard began only to be interrupted almost immediately.  
“How did I know about Lawson?”  
“Yeah,” Gerard offered a deep frown and furrowed brow to match.  
“Gerard, I’m your chief of security; it’s my job to know everything about everyone who comes and goes here.”  
“But... our friends?” Gerard stared up at the man who appeared like a mountain when standing alongside the still quite short and slight thirteen year old.

Edward looked down to meet Gerard’s astonished gaze, softening his expression as he did.

“You didn’t know?” He asked gently.

Gerard shook his head, unsure what, if anything, to say. Edward led the boy to the table and chairs set up in one corner that Gerard used for art, pulling out a seat for him. At first uncertain, Gerard hesitantly lowered himself down, not moving his eyes from Edward the whole time. Taking a seat next to him, Edward offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I can see that it’s really thrown you,” he spoke in a kind voice. “Your friend won’t wake up for a while yet. How about we talk?”  
“O-okay,” Gerard replied hesitantly. “What about Mikey?”  
“Do you want him here too?”

Gerard’s expression settled into a light frown as he considered his options. Ever concerned for his brother’s wellbeing, be decided to hear this alone. If necessary, he could always discuss it with Mikey later.

“I’ll ask him to wait for Dr Roby,” Gerard announced rising from the seat once more and heading for his bedroom door.

As he reached the corridor, Mikey was already there.

“Mikes,” he began, but was quickly interrupted by his concerned brother.  
“How is he? I called the Doc, she’s on her way.”

Gerard smiled; some doctors might complain about turning up after surgery hours, especially when the patient wasn’t even one of their own, but not Dr Roby.

In truth, few doctors would have argued with the Way brothers; they held such power within Battery City and BLI that should they feel so inclined, either of the boys could have any doctor’s medical license taken away on a whim. Roby knew them better. She knew that she didn’t have to fear them, in fact she liked them. They were sweet, kind and well-mannered boys and in the more affluent areas of Battery City, manners were often replaced by entitlement and disdain.

“He’s asleep,” Gerard began, keeping his voice low and even; the last thing he wanted to do was to have Mikey worry. “He seems basically okay, but I just want to have the Doc look over him.”

Mikey moved forward as if to head for Gerard’s bedroom, only to be stopped by a hand pressed lightly on his chest.

“I want to see him,” Mikey complained, frowning and trying to push past.

This time, Gerard took hold of his arms and forcibly held him back.

“Wait for Dr Roby,” he nodded to emphasise what he was saying. “Let her in when she comes.”  
“He’s not just your friend, Gee!” Mikey pouted at what he saw as his brother trying to pull rank.

Mikey was surprised when, without saying a word, Gerard pulled him suddenly into a affectionate hug.

“Gee?” Mikey’s voice grew uncertain and concerned. “Is he really okay?”  
“I think so, Mikes,” Gerard replied in as soothing a voice as he could muster.  
“Then... then why can’t I see him?”  
“You can, just not now,” Gerard pulled back slightly and looked down at his younger brother’s concerned expression. “I’m just going to have a chat with Edward, that’s all.”  
“What about?” Mikey pouted.  
“Security.”  
“And you have to do it in there?”

Gerard sighed and smiled; Mikey just wanted to see Frankie.

“No,” he paused. “Where’s Petra?”  
“Gone,” Mikey rolled his eyes. “To see Korse probably. She’s a big help in an emergency.”  
“Isn’t she just?” Gerard smirked. “Okay, you sit with Frankie and we’ll chat in the living room.”  
“Thanks, Gee!” Mikey beamed a broad smile.  
“Ask Edward to come out to the living room,” Gerard watched Mikey almost run to his bedroom before calling after him. “Oh, and Mikes?”  
“Yeah?” He replied, turning whilst still moving backwards.  
“Don’t try to wake him! Let him sleep.”  
“Well, duh!” Mikey pulled a face and waved his arms out to the side, replying as if the point were obvious, but inside he grumbled lightly to himself.

Gerard allowed himself a crooked smile as he headed back to the living room; he knew Mikey would still try to wake him then insist that he simply woke. Settling on the couch, he waited for Edward.

*

Korse crossed his arms and stared with a cold, hard glare at and almost through Petra who stood opposite him. The small, dark and sparsely furnished meeting room sequestered for their conversation now seemed suffocatingly cramped to Petra who appeared to physically crumple under his gaze. Her determination and resolve, however, were unwavering.

“You realise that what you are suggesting is very serious?” Korse finally spoke, each word emerging slowly and with venom.

Petra swallowed and took a sharp breath before replying.

“I do,” she replied. “I believe he is faking loyalty to BLI. I almost proved it tonight and I would have but for that brat running away from home, again!”  
“What you’re saying is that I failed with his indoctrination.”

Petra paled; she had considered the idea that Korse was being lied to and tricked, but not that he could take it as a personal failure.

“I don’t think you did fail,” she finally managed. “I think he learned from Mikey how to behave afterwards and faked it before it had taken full effect. You would have had no reason to believe it hadn’t worked.”  
“Failed indoctrination does not make him a rebel sympathiser,” Korse rounded the desk and approached Petra, looking down as he towered over her striking an imposing figure. “What reason do you have to believe that?”  
“He was almost physically sick at the idea of ordering the deaths of the rebel traitors. He wouldn’t have done it, he couldn’t!”

Korse shook his head lightly; Gerard was only thirteen. It was a lot to ask of the boy. It meant nothing. About to dismiss her reasoning, Korse grew livid as he heard her next statement.

“And he’s refusing to take the medication.”  
“What medication?” Korse frowned, at first puzzled.  
“Oh, er... Kanslokal, sir,” she replied almost tripping on the words as she realised she had spoken about it by mistake.  
“Kanslokal?” Korse narrowed his eyes as a deep frown creased his brow. “Who prescribed that? And on whose orders?”

The cold, clipped and smoothly spoken words did more to terrify Petra than if he had yelled at her and she paled still further, trembling, her voice shaking as she tried to find some words that would prevent her from falling foul of his wrath.

“I thought that if he...”  
“You thought?” Korse raised an eyebrow. “You? Thought?”  
“Sir... I...”  
“I don’t pay you to think!” He stormed. “Do you have any concept of what those pills would do to a thirteen year old boy?”  
“Keep him in line, for one!” The words were out before she even realised it and now she had taken that step, it was only a short hop to complete honesty. “He’s deceiving you. Can’t you see it? He’s playing you for a fool and I can’t watch him do it any longer! You pay me to watch them and...”  
“I pay you to see to their needs. That is all.”  
“Well, I am concerned about the needs of BLI and Battery City!” She snapped in return. “Gerard is fooling everyone, including you, and...”  
“But not you?” He commented smoothly. “What makes you so special?”  
“I’m with him every day and I see him for what he is, not what I want him to be!”

Korse frowned; if she was right, it could be very damaging, both personally and to BLI. He couldn’t realistically ignore the possibility. If she was wrong, she would pay a hefty price.

“And what are you willing to lay on the line for this accusation?”

Petra took a step back and gaped open-mouthed at the Exterminator.

“Wh...what do you mean?”  
“If you’re right, I promote you. If you’re wrong, I kill you. How sure are you now?”

Petra felt faint. She believed what she was saying, but equally she was aware that Korse wanted to believe that he had been successful with the indoctrination process. He wanted to believe that his nephews were perfect representatives of BLI. But most of all, he did not want her to be right.

“What guarantee do I have that you’ll try everything to prove what I say?”

Korse smiled; it was a cruel and devious expression to say the least.

“Good answer. Maybe I won’t kill you? Leave it with me. If he is a rebel sympathiser, I will find out.”  
“How? He’s not going to tell you, you know!”  
“I will find out,” he repeated in an unnerving tone.  
“How?” She pressed again. “You don’t even want it to be true.”  
“Dismissed,” he snapped icily.  
“No, I want to know how...”  
“Out!” He raged. “Or I will kill you... now!”  
“But...”

Korse reached for his gun, but she was turning for the door before he had even drawn it from its holster. He watched with satisfaction as she fled without another word.

“So, Gerard,” he expression grew serious and cold. “You’ve been lying to me, have you? Let us see how you behave in the company of rebels.”

*

Still lying down, and attached to the drip to rehydrate him, the newly named Jet Star was flexing his damaged wrist and slowly turning his hand as if he were writing the alphabet in big letters in the air.

“I feel really stupid doing this,” he admitted to the tall man in his late twenties sitting next to him.  
“Nah, you just gotta pretend you’re conducting an orchestra,” Flex, the camp’s physical therapist encouraged cheerfully.  
“Conducting an orchestra?” Jet laughed at the absurdity. “Why would I be doing that?”  
“Okay,” Flex grinned. “What do you like to do?”

Jet paused; his mouth open and poised to speak, but nothing came out. First closing his mouth, then his eyes, he looked away to the opposite corner of the room. His jaw was tightly clamped as he tried hard not to show his distress at his lack of memories. These men were war veterans. They had all seen, suffered and lost a great deal. His own loss of memory seemed to him to be very minor by comparison. He had to be strong.

“I don’t know,” he finally mumbled, unable to meet Flex’s concerned gaze.

Unwilling to embarrass the boy with sympathy and pity, Flex took a more practical approach.

“Well, you have callouses on the pads of your fingers,” he commented brightly. “Maybe you play guitar?”

Jet looked up and smiled appreciatively; Flex was helping, or at least trying to and now it was up to him to try to drag a memory from the mire that was his brain. Closing his eyes, he tried to picture a guitar or perhaps some other instrument, but whilst he could find no specific memories, while he was thinking, Flex noted that Jet’s left hand was making chord shapes. It seemed an automatic response to the suggestion and it seemed that it could only mean that, yes, he did play and probably had for some years.

“Well, that looks pretty likely to me,” Flex commented cheerfully; only now did Jet become aware of the chord shapes he was forming, pulling a smile from his lips. “I’m pretty sure we can lay hands on a guitar somewhere. Probably be a bit beaten up, but would you like that?”  
“Thank you,” he replied to the thoughtful gesture. “Really, thank you! That’s...”  
“No worries, kid. Now, come on, concentrate on your exercises. We need to get that hand working again if you’re going to play, right?”

Jet looked up, nodding excitedly and beaming at Flex, now renewing his therapy with vigour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovely readers
> 
> I hope you’re still enjoying this. Don’t worry, you won’t have to read this for 20 years to get up to date! It’ll be a series of vignettes of which this is the first, but it does set the scene.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Sas xx


	6. Oh, What a Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard learns something about himself and BLI and Frankie is finally free

Gerard looked up with an expectant look marred by a slight edge of nervousness as Edward walked into the living room. For his part, Edward offered another reassuring smile; the news of the security guard’s knowledge of all their visitors had clearly disturbed Gerard, even though realistically and rationally it was essential. Waiting for Gerard to gesture to a seat at the table, Edward sat and leaned forward, placing his arms on the table.

“What do you want to know?” He finally asked after a short pause.  
“First of all, I want to know why you’re checking up on my friends.”  
“And second?”  
“What’s been happening to Frankie and for how long?”  
“Okay,” Edward nodded, this had to be handled carefully and sensitively so as not to scare either of the boys. “Do you have any idea how important you are?”  
“Me?” Gerard pointed to himself.  
“You and Mikey,” Edward smiled at the boy’s innocence. “You’re both very important to BLI.”  
“Why?” Gerard asked, a puzzled expression creeping onto his face.  
“You are the official faces of BLI. You feature in their marketing and literature.”  
“So?”

Edward looked down and smiled; Gerard really didn’t understand.

“You are the safe faces of BLI. You reassure the public that everything is good and that BLI are looking after them.”  
“How?”

Edward pursed his lips and looked briefly to the left. This was a question that he hoped Gerard wouldn’t ask. Now he had the difficult question of whether to tell him the truth or concoct a plausible story.

“What don’t you want to tell me?”  
“You’re astute,” Edward laughed. “Okay, I’ll tell you. The television commercials and dynamic advertising all through Battery City includes subliminal messages that all is well, along with your face. It happens too fast for the eyes to register, but the brain does.”  
“So it’s like hypnosis?”

Edward shrugged his shoulders.

“I guess, but it’s in their interests.”

Gerard couldn’t help but notice that even Edward couldn’t manage an expression that suggested he was convinced by the words.

“I still don’t see why I’m important,” Gerard replied flatly.  
“You have a great deal of wealth and privilege in the city, this apartment for one...”  
“This isn’t standard?” Gerard was surprised by the statement.  
“Have you never been anywhere else?” It was Edward’s turn to be surprised.  
“You know we haven’t, Edward. I haven’t even been to Frankie’s. Korse won’t let us out of his sight. Petra’s here all the time, sometimes he is, I assume that you report to him too.”  
“I provide security information, but nothing more.”  
“So, if I went out, you wouldn’t tell him?”  
“Alone?” Edward raised an eyebrow.

Gerard laughed and shook his head as the ludicrous reality occurred to him.

“I’ve never been anywhere alone! There’s always a driver and either a security detail or a handful of crows.”  
“BLI have a great deal invested in both you and Mikey. It’s not cheap or easy to set up all the subliminal marketing they have and you have to be protected. Can you imagine how it would look if you were kidnapped and BLI didn’t succeed in doing absolutely everything to get you back? There would be riots by people seeing a discrepancy between how they portray themselves and how they act. Like I said, you’re very important to them. If anyone were to get their hands on you, they could potentially bring BLI down.”  
“Me or Mikey?” Gerard clarified.  
“Mostly you,” Edward shrugged. “Mikey’s in the printed literature, but because of his age he’s been kept out of a lot of the subliminal advertising so they don’t have to update it so often as he grows.”  
“So, you have to check everyone out who comes here to make sure they aren’t potential kidnappers?”  
“Or murderers, or blackmailers, and any number of other things.”  
“Okay, but why Frankie? He’s just our friend.”  
“I know, but Lawson isn’t and I had to be sure that Frankie hadn’t become your friend to perhaps gain access to the building only to be able to get Lawson in.”  
“Oh,” Gerard lowered his head and nodded. “And has he?”  
“No,” Edward smiled. “Frankie is a very loyal friend and has done everything he can not to bring trouble to your door, despite all the beatings he’s suffered. This time is different.”  
“And?”  
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he’s come here. He needs to get away from that man and you have the power to enable it to happen.”  
“Why haven’t you told me about this before?” Gerard’s voice turned clipped and angry.  
“What would you have done?” Edward asked carefully.  
“I’d have got him out of there!” Gerard insisted.  
“He wasn’t ready,” Edward objected.  
“What do you mean?” Gerard’s voice flattened in surprise as he heard the unexpected statement.  
“Lawson repeatedly tells him he’s useless, that he’s a bad boy, that he deserves what he’s doing to him.”  
“He believed that?” Gerard gasped.  
“Frankie’s a good boy, fiercely loyal and always tries to do his best. He wanted to please Lawson but everyone has their limits. I can only guess he finally realised for himself that Lawson was probably going to kill him if he stayed. He’s tried leaving before and all it’s done is make things worse, but this time he’s come here because he’s so desperate he’s, as he sees it, brought his troubles to your door.”  
“I’d do anything for Frankie,” Gerard appeared distressed. “How could he think it’s too much trouble for me?”  
“I don’t know, Gerard. If I had to guess, perhaps he thought about him being a ward of BLI and you essentially fronting BLI? If there was a conflict of interest, he wouldn’t want to risk your friendship by asking you to choose.”  
“There’s no conflict,” Gerard grew angry again. “And that man will never touch him again! Can I get him arrested for what he’s done?”  
“Yes, but perhaps you’d get a better result if you told Korse that Lawson was consorting with rebels.”  
“Is he?” Gerard’s eyes widened.  
“Oh,” Edward grinned. “My men can prove anything if they put their mind to it.”

Gerard grinned in return at the unexpected offer to help.

“You’d do that?”  
“Consider it done. I’ll make my report; no one will ever see him again. Trust me.”  
“Thanks, Edward, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”  
“It’s my job to protect you, and as I see it, this is in your interests. Is there anything else?”  
“No,” Gerard was smiling, he felt very reassured and much calmer. “I better go check on Frankie. I guess I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Edward smiled and nodded; he wasn’t worried. Rising to their feet, Edward headed towards the elevator and Gerard towards his bedroom.

“Thanks again, Edward,” he called back.  
“My pleasure,” the security guard replied.

*

As Gerard opened the door to his bedroom, the scene was exactly as he expected to find it.

“He woke up, Gee, I swear,” Mikey gabbled as his older brother walked in.  
“I can see that,” Gerard smirked.  
“By himself, I mean,” Mikey was on his feet now, protesting his innocence before Gerard had even spoken a word. “I didn’t wake him, honest.”  
“I believe you, Mikes,” Gerard laughed at his suddenly high-pitched voice as he spoke the last word of his sentence.   
“Thousand’s wouldn’t,” Frankie chuckled, earning a panicked stare from the younger brother.  
“But I do,” Gerard rolled his eyes at Frankie, as usual, stirring up unnecessary trouble, as was his way. “Mikey, can I have a few minutes with Frankie?”

Mikey huffed a loud sigh at the request.

“It’s past your bedtime, anyway.”  
“Aww, Gee! You’re as bad as Petra!” 

There was something in Gerard’s change of expression that unexpectedly resonated with the younger boy and without warning, Gerard found Mikey’s arms wrapped tightly around him as if he never wanted to let go.

“Sorry, Gee, I didn’t mean that. Even when you’re grown up, you’ll never be as dull as her!”

Gerard and Frankie locked eyes over Mikey’s head, trying hard not to laugh at what seemed a backhanded compliment. But, Gerard knew, in Mikey’s eyes it was the ultimate statement of appreciation. Gerard would never be dull and he accepted it as it was meant with grace.

“Thanks, Mikes. Now off you go, brush your teeth and get to bed, I’ll come in in a bit to tuck you in, okay?”  
“What about the doc?” Mikey asked.  
“I’ll listen out for her. Off you go, you need to rest.”  
“Okay,” he smiled as he let go. “Goodnight Frankie!”  
“Goodnight, Mikey,” Frankie replied with a smile, despite his injuries hurting him.  
“I’ll be in soon,” Gerard repeated, waving as Mikey left the room, closing the door behind him.

Changing the position of the chair Mikey had used at Frankie’s bedside, Gerard sighed.

“Sorry he woke you,” he shrugged.  
“It’s okay,” Frankie sighed lightly. “It was nice to wake up somewhere safe for a change.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” Gerard couldn’t hold the question in any longer. “We knew he would hit you, but you always played it down, said it was your fault. Frankie, this isn’t your fault! None of it! I could have helped.”

Frankie took a deeper breath, grimacing as his back hurt with the movement.

“He blamed me...”  
“But it’s...”  
“Let me speak, Gee, please. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.”  
“I’m sorry,” Gerard nodded. “I won’t interrupt again.”

Frankie smiled; yes he would.

“I’ve been with him for three years, Gee, since I was five, I barely remember anything different. He blamed me and I believed him. I believed I was useless, that I couldn’t do anything, that I caused so much trouble that no one else would want me and I was lucky to have him.”

Gerard’s brows creased with the agony of hearing his friend’s suffering.

“But you ran away before,” he replied, confused about Frankie’s reluctance to speak to him or let him help previously.  
“I was trying to make it on my own.”  
“On your own?” Gerard gasped. “In Battery City, alone?”

The idea for Gerard who had never been anywhere alone in the three years since he had been placed under Korse’s guardianship, was a daunting one. Yes, he had memories of before then; he had been ten when Korse had killed his and Mikey’s father, but some of those memories where quite sketchy. He wasn’t sure if that was to be expected or if they had been affected by Korse’s attempts to erase his memories, but he knew an eight-year-old trying to survive alone in Battery City was unthinkable.

“I didn’t say I had it all worked out, I just wanted to get out, get away from him. But the police kept finding me and taking me back and he just got more violent every time. I swear he’s going to kill me if I go back again. I’m really scared Gee. I came here and I’m sorry but I don’t know what to do.”

Tears were rolling down both boys’ cheeks by the end of Frankie’s story and Gerard took Frankie’s hand in his, squeezing it lightly. 

“Don’t be sorry, Frankie. You can and always should come here, you’re my best friend and I would die for you. You’re staying here either permanently or until we find you somewhere else, whatever you prefer.”

Frankie pulled a face - a mixture of displeasure and alarm.

“I can’t stay here with her,” he confided, keeping his voice low. “She does not like me, Gee.”  
Gerard leaned closer. “She doesn’t like me either,” he grinned.

The pair shared a laugh and Gerard’s spirits were lifted at the sight of his friend happy despite his horrific injuries.

“What about... him? They’ll make me go back. I can’t go back, Gee, I can’t!”

In that brief moment, Frankie was scared and upset again, with more tears rolling down his cheeks.

Gerard reached up and smoothed the tears from his cheeks.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he spoke soothingly. “You won’t ever see that man again.”  
“Y-you don’t kn-know that, Gee,” Frankie hiccuped through the words.  
“I do,” he replied firmly. “I’ve seen to it already. I promise you, Frankie, he’s gone. You’re free of him. He’ll never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”  
“Really?” Somehow the words made even more tears spring to his eyes.  
“Really,” Gerard continued soothingly. “Now, you get some rest. Our doctor will be here soon and she’s lovely. She’ll have you better in no time and you’re staying here with us at least until then, okay?”  
“Okay,” Frankie offered a weak, tired smile. “Thanks, Gee.”  
“Close your eyes and get some rest.”

As Frankie closed his eyes, he sighed happily as he felt Gerard’s lips place a brief, soft kiss on his forehead. He was asleep only moments later.

Gerard barely had time to tuck Mikey in for the night before Edward called to announce the arrival of Dr Roby. Helping her to clean and dress all of Frankie’s wounds took just under an hour. To her unspoken amusement, Gerard found an excuse to step away as she gave him shots to prevent infection, before he returned to help him into a pair of pyjamas. Mikey’s were too small, Gerard’s too big, but it was preferable for them to be loose against the dressings. By the time Dr Roby left with a promise to return the next day it was very late and Gerard was fit to drop. He had long since removed his jacket and shoes and, deciding he was too tired to bother undressing further, gathered up a sheet and a pillow and crashed, fully dressed, on the couch. He barely remembered his head touching the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and if you left kudos or a comment, a huge thank you to you! It means so much when people take time out of their days to drop me a line and I really appreciate it.
> 
> Hope you like this one - the next one’s half written too! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading  
> Sas xx


	7. In the Company of Rebels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BLI’s nightmare comes true, but is everything quite what it seems?

Gerard felt groggy, as if he’d been up all night and only managed a few minutes sleep. If he had been older, perhaps he would have likened it to a hangover, but he was still years away from knowing that feeling. He felt slightly nauseous, his head pounded and his body ached. Was he getting sick? Finally opening his eyes, he was grateful that the room was dark, but his heart began to race when he saw that he was lying on a gritty, dirty floor. Sitting up quickly, suddenly alert and panicking, his eyes wide and scanning the room for clues of where he was, he moved to push himself to his feet and only then spotted the chains at his wrists.

A sudden sinking feeling, followed by a wash of heat hit him and he began to hyperventilate, his breathing now quickening with his heart rate. A small sound escaped his lips as he looked around urgently, frantic to find both an exit and a source for the chains. The question of the chains was easier - they led to the wall nearby; he saw that almost immediately, but the location of the exit eluded him. From what he could see of the darkened room, it appeared to be made from stone and brick. It was dusty, dirty and ill-kept; the lack of windows suggested a basement. The main questions remained. Where was he? How had he got there? Who had him and why?

The last thing he remembered was going to bed. He took a deep breath and corrected his thoughts; no, he had slept on the couch, Frankie was using his bed. Security wasn’t just tight in the building, it was impenetrable, which, of course, led to the inevitable question - how had they managed to get inside? Or for that matter, to get him out? Where was Edward? Petra? Korse?

Despite the growing nausea, Gerard pushed himself to his feet, thankful that the chains were long enough to allow it. The only light to be seen in the entire room was a tiny red light in the corner that he assumed was attached to a camera. Well, if they knew he was awake, it was time for him to find out more about them.

“Hey!” He yelled up toward the bright red dot in the corner of the room. “You know I’m awake, so how about you show yourselves? Come on! What are you waiting for?”

Gerard glanced around before finally, after only about a minute, a thin strip of light could be seen under what he now realised was a door. Bracing himself for whatever awaited him, Gerard made a conscious effort not to look afraid but he felt it was probably not entirely successful.

Almost as soon as the door opened, a tall man thumped a switch on the wall with the side of his hand, causing Gerard to squint as two bright fluorescent strip lights flickered to life filling the room with harsh white light.

Frowning as his eyes adjusted slowly, Gerard stared as sternly as he was able at the three oddly dressed people before him. One was tall, male and blond, the remaining two were women with brightly coloured long hair - one with pinks and purples, the other green and blue. Their clothes - man and women - were garish and well worn to the point of falling apart at the seams. The only things that seemed in good condition were their boots. Gerard couldn’t help but notice their boots, they were all identical and, he noted, standard draculoid issue. Had they stolen them?

“Who are you?” He asked, stemming the potentially nervous shake in his voice so that he sounded confident.  
“Why do you care?” The green and blue haired woman asked with an unpleasant and condescending laugh.  
“I care because I want to know where I am, who has me and why,” he snapped in return, his confidence growing at the current lack of a physical threat.  
“Sassy, ain’t he?” Said the other woman.  
“We can’t be intimidating enough,” the man growled, cracking his knuckles as he stared, unblinking at Gerard.  
“What am I doing here?”  
“Where?” The man chuckled.  
“Wherever this is,” Gerard was growing increasingly frustrated and his anger was showing. “What do you want?”  
“We...” the pink and purple haired woman raised her eyes to the ceiling as she considered her words. “... rescued you.”  
“Rescued?” Gerard repeated, unimpressed by the explanation.  
“Sure,” the other woman added. “Why, what would you call it?”  
“I’d call it kidnapping,” he growled.  
“It’s only kidnapping if we’re planning on ransoming you. So, maybe you’d want to call it abduction? But we’re sticking with rescuing.”  
“I’m chained up! How is that a rescue? And what are you supposed to have rescued me from?”

Suddenly, their last words hit home with Gerard and he paled, taking a step back, his lips parting in surprise.

“And there it is,” the man laughed, pointing a finger at Gerard and finishing with a knowing smirk.  
“If not for ransom, what do you want?” Gerard was unable to hide the shake in his voice this time.

All three lost the laughter in their expressions and stared harshly at the young boy, who appeared suddenly very scared. Slowly, the blond man stepped forward and pushed Gerard back against the wall.

“We want change,” he snapped. “We want freedom. We want a whole bunch of things. And you, the pretty face of BLI, are going to help us get it.”

Gerard swallowed hard as the two women now stood either side of the man, crowding him against the wall and staring with intimidating, even threatening, glares.

“I’m not going to do anything to help you.”

Gerard’s words were brave, but the shake in his voice let him down prompting the woman with purple hair to chuckle.

“Well, of course you are, sweetie,” she cooed as she played with a lock of his hair. “You don’t get a choice in the matter.”

Screaming with sheer anger and frustration, Gerard lunged forward at the blond man, catching him off guard and shoving with all his might until the chains at his wrists were at full stretch. Watching as the man sprawled backwards onto the floor, Gerard yelled, his voice no longer shaking.

“I don’t know how you got me here, but people will be looking for me and when they find me, I’ll order your deaths myself! Then I’ll watch, laughing as you all swing and burn!”

The blond man pushed himself up from the floor, trying to hide the limp caused by the rapidly forming bruise on his hip.

“Big words for a small boy,” he spat.

His expression was one of pure loathing as he stalked towards Gerard before grabbing one of the chains as Gerard raised his arms defensively. With no idea what to expect, Gerard was taken by surprise when instead of hitting him or returning the shove, the man spun him around and quickly wrapped the chain around his neck, pinning his left arm across his chest in the process. Pulling hard on the chain, the man laughed as Gerard struggled, kicked and scrabbled desperately to loosen the choking hold of the chain. In only a matter of about fifteen seconds, Gerard’s knees were buckling underneath him and his eyes rolling in their sockets. With one last sharp tug, the man released the semi-conscious boy and watched as he slipped to the floor, gasping and choking.

“Threaten all you like boy, but no one’s gonna find you here.” Using his foot to roll Gerard onto his back, the man spat on the floor to emphasise his disdain. “When we get what we want, if you’re still alive and very lucky, we might let you go.”  
“So you better do what we want, sweetie,” the purple haired woman chuckled unpleasantly as she kneeled next to him and pinched his left cheek. “If you don’t, well you won’t ever see daylight again. Understand?”

Gerard’s mind was reeling. The pain, disorientation, shock and the after effects of what he now realised was a drug conspired against him. His eyes closed and he sagged where he lay, unconscious once more.

*

Too many people were there and they were all talking at once; it was too much for Mikey.

“Shut up!” He yelled as loudly as he could manage, much to everyone’s surprise.

The room fell silent and all eyes fell on the ten year old. No one was taking care of his feelings, neither were they explaining anything to him. It was as if he were irrelevant and as young as he was, he was not about to be treated like that. The environment in which both Gerard and Mikey lived required and even encouraged them to grow up fast. Both boys were mentally and emotionally older than their years would normally suggest, and at ten, Mikey was more than willing to stand up for himself.

He looked around, grateful that so many people were doing their jobs but less so that they were ignoring him in the process. Korse appeared as grim as usual as he ordered three junior exterminators around. Petra - well, he didn’t like the expression on her face one bit. To him it seemed that she knew exactly what had happened and even hoped for the worst possible result. Edward appeared bewildered and stressed as he repeatedly searched footage of security cameras and use of entry and exit codes. He kept coming up with the same result - someone had entered and left the building between 3am and 3.20am - the security doors registered it as an override of all codes but there was no one on the cameras at all. Worse still there were very few people who had sufficient clearance and knowledge of how to use override codes without setting off alarms and most of them were in the room.

“Where is my brother?” The words emerged tight and strangled as the stress of speaking the words seemed to make it more real.

Korse turned to face him, staring with an almost kind expression before placing a hand on Mikey’s back and steering him towards the table.

“We don’t know, Mikey, but I promise you, we will find him and we’ll deal decisively with whoever has him.” Korse replied; to Mikey it sounded like an automatic response, almost a brush off.  
“Assuming he hasn’t just gone off somewhere,” Petra sniped with a huff of disdain.  
“There is no way he would do that,” Edward snapped in reply, briefly looking up from his work with the security logs.  
“And you’d know, would you?” She asked, her hands on her hips, unimpressed by what she saw as a mere lackey making unsubstantiated statements.  
“I know a lot more than you think I know,” he growled in return.

The statement drew a surprised and somewhat unnerved glance from Petra and an expression of curiosity from Korse. He knew how good Edward was at his job; it was one of the main reasons he was given the position of head of security in the first place. The other being his easy charm and likeable personality that provided personal comfort to the Way brothers.

“What are you doing to find him?” Came a hesitant voice from Gerard’s bedroom door.  
“What’s _he_ still doing here?” Petra complained.  
“He’s here because we want him here!” Mikey snapped back, turning an angry expression towards their personal assistant. “Much more than we want _you_ here, actually!” He added, thinking after that Gerard would be proud of him for that.

Korse’s lips twisted into a slight smirk; if Petra had to _leave_ for any reason, it appeared she would not be missed.

“We have methods and devices that will help us find him,” Korse replied calmly, flicking his hand and wrist in a quick circle to indicate to the junior exterminators that they were about to leave.  
“What exactly are you going to do?” Mikey pressed again with Frankie’s question.  
“We are going to find him and bring him back safe and sound, Mikey. Whoever has done this will pay dearly, don’t worry.”  
“I am worried!” Mikey tried to sound angry, but it came out with a catch in his voice that gave away his true feelings.  
“I promise you, I will find him,” Korse reiterated, his voice even more determined this time.

Edward kept his eyes on the screens he was reviewing; he was suspicious but had no intention of revealing his suspicions to the Exterminator. Korse was either foolishly making promises he couldn’t be certain of keeping or he knew exactly what he was saying because he knew exactly where to find him. Either way, Mikey and almost certainly Gerard were being manipulated. But for what purpose, he wasn’t sure.

 


	8. The Test is Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rebels make a mistake, calling a swift end to the test of Gerard's loyalty to BLI

Gerard woke as he was being dragged to the wall of the basement where he was being held. If he’d had time to consider, perhaps he would have waited until he was fully awake to make his move but he reacted immediately out of distress and panic. 

“Wha... what are you doing? Let me go!” He cried, pulling and twisting in the grip of the man and one of the women.

He didn’t see it coming, but the blond man’s fist silenced him immediately as it crashed into his jaw. Gerard’s mouth hung open briefly as his dazed mind gathered himself together and performed a brief check to be certain every part of him still functioned despite the excruciating pain. By the time he regained his composure, his back was against the wall and the chains had been shortened using a simple arrangement of a pair of padlocks looped through the links nearest his wrist and the ones nearest to the wall, essentially holding his arms flat against the wall. Not only that but the woman had worked quickly to duct tape his ankles together and was now wrapping the roll of tape around his legs, just above his knees.

“What do you want?” He whispered hesitantly, making certain his jaw was intact first.  
“We’re going to hack into Battery City TV and you’re going to read our demands.”  
“No,” Gerard shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

The man smirked slyly as he pulled on a pair of leather gloves.

“I hoped you’d say that,” his smirk grew into a wide grin as his right fist slammed into his left palm.

*

Edward was now poring over the blueprints to the building, determined to work out how the intruder entered without being caught on camera. The plans were spread out over the dining room table; him not having left the boys’ apartment since the news of Gerard’s disappearance. 

Mikey was sitting on the couch, his knees pulled up to his chest. He had been the one to discover his brother missing. Having risen in the night, thirsty and needing to fetch himself a glass of water, he had noticed the couch empty and Gerard gone. He had also found the note. It hadn’t said much, just that they would be in touch and he had immediately raised the alarm.

Now, hugging his knees, his eyes fluttered and he frowned deeply, digging his fingernails into the back of his hand as he tried to force himself to stay awake. He felt guilty that he was tired despite only having had a few hours sleep, but needing much more. His head dropped briefly as sleep tried to claim him, but he continued to fight it. Edward looked up at him; a sympathetic expression swept across his face as he stared at the ten year old. 

“Mikey,” he began softly, “why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll let you know the moment we hear anything.”  
“I’m not tired,” Mikey objected, his voice slightly slurred.

Edward gave a slight smile; he had to admire his loyalty and determination, but exhausting himself would do him no good.

“Why not just have a lie down, then? Even if you’re not tired, you can get some rest. You’ll need it for when he comes back.”

Mikey thought for a moment before nodding and lowering himself down, he stretched out on the couch, resting his head on the pillow still there from earlier.

“I’m not gonna sleep though,” he replied with a determined tone. “I’m just resting my eyes, that’s all.”  
“Of course,” Edward responded convincingly; he knew that within moments, the exhausted boy would be fast asleep. 

Returning to his review of the building plans, he was struck by something unusual in the details. As far as he had always been aware, the single express elevator began on the ground floor and would travel without stopping to the thirtieth floor, directly into Gerard and Mikey’s apartment. A second larger elevator did the same but opened out into the corridor beyond the apartment. It remained a private elevator, as only the brothers’ apartment lay on that floor. It was often used for anything from deliveries especially of furniture that required a larger elevator to formal visits, requiring them meeting the visitor at the door. What he hadn’t realised was that the plans suggested that the penthouse suite was actually located on the thirty-first floor. It could only be one of three things: the plans were wrong, they had been changed so that one of the floors had not been built so leaving the building at an even thirty floors or, finally and disturbingly, an extra floor existed beneath the building of which he was unaware. Could it be how the intruder made his way into their apartment? Who would know about it though? And it still didn’t explain how the correct entry codes were used.

Edward’s brow creased as his communicator crackled to life. Snatching it up quickly, he made sure to keep his voice low - he didn’t want to risk waking Mikey if it was nothing, and more so if it were bad news.

“What have you got?” He asked quietly to one of his team.  
“Switch on the TV,” the tense voice responded quickly.  
“What channel?” He asked with a frown.  
“Doesn’t matter,” came the reply. “It’s on all of them, it’s been hacked.”  
“Get a trace on it,” he barked, realising that, whatever it was, it was probably a live feed. 

Scanning the room for the TV remote, Edward found it quickly and switched on from standby. Lowering the volume, he gasped at the picture on the large screen. The scene made him relieved that Mikey was asleep; Gerard was chained with his arms fastened close to the wall, his legs and ankles bound with tape. His eyes lowered, Edward wasn’t certain if he was conscious. Gerard’s left cheek and the area surrounding his left eye were severely swollen as was his apparently split lower lip. His face, cut and bleeding, and his shoulders appeared to be shaking slightly. On the screen, next to him, a blond, garishly dressed man was spouting rebel rhetoric, calling for freedom for all political prisoners and gloating about what he would do to Gerard if his demands weren’t responded to within the hour.

It wasn’t the demands the man was making that shocked Edward the most. It wasn’t even the condition that Gerard was in or that the coward had severely beaten a defenceless young boy. No, the most shocking thing on the screen was the man himself and the fact that only the previous day Gerard was scheduled to order his and two rebel females’ deaths at Traitor’s Square. 

Instead, somehow they were free and had managed to access one of the most well guarded and secure buildings in Battery City without leaving a trace and abduct one of the city’s most high profile figures.

It was impossible to think that he, possibly they, had even managed to escape from the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit cells without assistance. The facts were piling up in his mind and the inescapable conclusions he was now reaching seemed equally impossible. Continuing to stare at the television, his mind raced as to what to do with the information he now believed he held. There really was only one person who could have arranged every aspect of this most unusual crime.

Even as he was thinking his name, the live feed crackled and the camera was suddenly diverted from the man and Gerard. Now pointing toward the floor, the camera continued filming and Edward watched as he saw shadows flash by, he heard male and female voices, a female apparently begging for her life, screams and laser fire. It seemed to last only moments and finally a lifeless arm fell into view of the camera - a man’s arm covered in a bright yellow jacket stained with blood. A pair of legs appeared in shot beside the dead man moments before the camera was shut off: there was no mistaking that they belonged to Korse. He would be hailed as a hero for rescuing Gerard, but Edward felt sick to his stomach with the certain knowledge that the Exterminator had arranged it all. One single answer eluded him - why? What would Korse achieve by placing his nephew in grave danger only to rescue him? Whatever the answer, Edward knew one thing for certain - Korse was willing to do anything, risk anything to satisfy his own needs. The boys could no longer be considered safe under his guardianship. But what could he do? Raising his concerns would result in his removal or even his death. With everything at stake, Edward took a slow deep breath, vowing to help the boys should they ever really need to get away. All their lives might very well depend on it. 

Switching off the television, Edward pondered his next move. It would be better if he claimed to only have seen the video from after the moment the camera had been pushed away from Gerard and the rebel. That way, Korse may not realise that he had both seen and recognised the rebel. This of course meant that he couldn’t tell Mikey that his brother was hurt and he had to act surprised when he saw him. Putting his hand up to his mouth, Edward tapped his finger on his lips; he desperately wanted to call for the doctor as Gerard would need medical attention when brought home, but felt that he couldn’t without giving away that he knew he had been hurt. He hoped instead for some word from Exterminator Korse that they were on their way so he could ask about his condition. 

Crouching down, he gently shook Mikey. At first, sleep continued trying its best to claim him but his conscious mind brought him back to wakefulness quickly as he hoped for news.

“What…?” he muttered as Edward shook his arm, before almost sitting upright at the insistent motion. “What is it? Is Gee okay?” He spoke quickly and urgently.  
“He’s been found,” Edward smiled. “He’s alive and Exterminator Korse has found him.”

Elated, but emotional, Mikey pushed himself forward and flung his arms around Edwards neck, happy tears flowing freely.

“Is… is he hurt?” Mikey choked out.  
“I don’t know,” Edward lied in response. “I just know he’s alive and he’s been found.”

Mikey clung to Edward for a few more moments as he gathered himself, nodding as he finally pulled back.

“He can get better if he’s hurt,” Mikey reasoned, the relief obvious on his face. “At least he’s alive. When is he coming home?”  
“I don’t know,” Edward smiled as he noticed the grim shadow of concern had lifted from Mikey’s brow. “I haven’t heard from Exterminator Korse yet. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”  
“Should we get Dr Roby here? To check him over, just in case?” Mikey asked, nodding again as he spoke the words.  
“I think that’s a very good idea, Mikey,” Edward replied with a comforting smile, and a gentle hand cupping the boy’s cheek. “I’ll call her now.”

*

Gerard looked up; although one eye was effectively closed from the beating, tears were still forming and rolling down both cheeks. His chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing but he was bordering on hyperventilating - the result of pain and shock, combined with the relief of rescue finally allowing his body to react to the terrifying situation. Exterminator Korse crouched down to be at eye-level with his nephew, still chained to the wall while behind him a draculoid searched the pockets of the dead rebel, looking for the key to the padlocks. Reaching into his boot, Korse drew out a sharp knife from a concealed sheath and gently cut through the tape binding Gerard’s ankles and legs before resheathing the knife. As he pulled the tape away, he made sure not to pull hard in case his legs were sore. Balling up the tape before throwing it aside, Korse offered a gentle smile.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked.  
“Face, jaw, chest and back,” he replied in a slightly muffled voice caused by the swelling and split lip.  
“I’ll take you to the hospital,” Korse replied with a slight nod, noting that Gerard’s breathing appeared to be settling.  
“No,” Gerard replied, his voice surprisingly firm. “I want to go home.”  
“Are you sure?” He tipped his head in a questioning manner. “You’ve been treated badly by that scum.”

A small noise escaped Gerard’s throat as he once again tried to control his reactions. It even surprised him that at the forefront of his mind his only thoughts were around how Frankie had suffered this treatment from his guardian on a regular basis and, of course, how strong he had been to cope with it. Now Frankie was staying with them and Gerard wanted very much to be there with him, to also be strong. If he had an appreciation for what Frankie had suffered before this, he admired him all the more now and he just wanted to be with him. 

“I know how I’ve been treated,” he replied bitterly as the draculoid returned with the key. “I want to go home.”

Korse nodded; medical attention could be provided anywhere. Inserting the key into the lock securing the chain around Gerard’s left wrist, he opened it enough to release one link, lowering Gerard’s hand gently to his side and leaving the padlock hanging on the remaining link. Repeating the task with his right arm, Korse stood and made room for paramedics with a stretcher to get to Gerard’s side.

Gerard had been brave. He had refused to give in to the rebels, fighting them all the way despite his injuries - having watched the entire event on a monitor in his office, Korse was satisfied with the boy’s loyalty. Petra was mistaken. She had wasted his time and that, in his mind, was unforgivable.


	9. Three Days Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petra’s replacement is truly in Korse’s pocket

**THREE DAYS LATER**

 

“How long have you worked for BLI?”  
“Since its inception, sir,” the man replied with a quiet yet steady voice.  
“Hmm.”

Korse began to pace, at first just the length of his desk, but as he was ready with his next question, he walked slowly behind the man. As tall as Korse was, this man was taller still; at six foot three, with broad shoulders, he seemed a gentle giant.

“You come highly recommended,” Korse began, “but who do you serve?”  
“I... I don’t understand the question, sir,” the man replied, turning his head as Korse appeared now at his left side.  
“You work for BLI,” Korse stated. “But, if I offer you this position, who do you serve?”

The man frowned; he could already see it was some sort of trick question but he needed more information.

“I assume we both serve BLI, sir.” He offered with a slight tilt of his head. “Or have I misunderstood?”

Korse smiled; he was careful. He liked that.

“If there was ever a conflict of interest between my orders and those of BLI. What then?”  
“Given your reputation and obvious commitment to BLI, if that were to happen, sir, I could only assume that BLI couldn’t be in possession of all the relevant information. If I were to follow someone else’s orders, whatever you were planning could go wrong. Something like that could damage you in their eyes and I would not want to be the cause of that.”  
“So, I want specifics, who do you serve?” Korse returned to his desk and leaned across it once more.  
“You, sir, in all respects.”  
“Good,” Korse nodded. “What dosage of Kanslokal do you take.  
“The job specified recommended dose, sir,” the man appeared surprised to be asked. “Twenty milligrams.”  
“You are very loyal, aren’t you, Jakob?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“The last person in this role disappointed me. She had her own agenda and had neither my, nor BLI’s best interests at heart. You will not disappoint me.”

The words were more of an order than a statement or question, but Jakob responded with a firm nod.

“No, sir. I will do whatever you need me to do.”  
“Good,” Korse took a seat and gestured for Jakob to do the same. “You will be the new personal assistant to the Way brothers, but more than that, you are to be my eyes and ears in their apartment. You will report to me every day on what is done and said by the brothers, security and any of their visitors or guests. I am particularly interested in any subversive activity.”  
“Subversive, sir?” Jakob appeared surprised by the suggestion.  
“Yes, Jakob, subversive. It is my job, is it not, to find rebels and their sympathisers.”  
“Yes, sir... but... the Way brothers?”  
“They are young,” he waved a hand casually in the air, “impressionable. I don’t want to hear of them being corrupted or subjected to the wrong sort of person. Do you understand?”  
“Yes, sir. Rebels are cunning and even the best amongst us could be tricked by them if caught off guard.”  
“Exactly,” Korse offered a thin smile. “And I want you to make sure Gerard takes this.”

Reaching into a desk draw, Korse withdrew a bottle of white powder and placed it on the desk before pushing it towards Jakob.

“Can I ask what it is, sir?”

Korse thought for a moment before nodding; he liked this man, he seemed very careful.

“It’s Kanslokal, in powdered form. I don’t want him to be aware that he’s taking it.”

Jakob frowned as he reached for the bottle, examining it closely before looking up at Korse once more. The exterminator appeared interested by the man’s reaction.

“Yes, Jakob?” he asked, bringing his fingers together into a peak. “I can see you have a question.”

Jakob pondered his position. He had already expressed that he was willing to serve Korse and was not about to begin his job with a career and possibly life-ending question. Whatever Korse’s reason for giving the boy BLI’s patented ‘happy pills’ at such a young age and without his knowledge, it was going to happen anyway, with or without his help. There would be nothing for him to gain in enquiring why, but possibly everything to lose.

“What dosage, sir?” He asked, placing the bottle back down on the desk.  
“Good question,” Korse smiled slyly. “Dissolve ten milligrams in water and add it to his coffee or any other drinks through the day. It’s tasteless, so he won’t notice the difference. Make sure Mikey does not have any. That is very important, do you understand?”  
“Yes, sir. Ten milligrams daily, Gerard only, without his knowledge, at all costs.”

Korse nodded; sometimes he disliked absolute compliance, but Jakob’s was measured and deliberate not blind and unthinking. He would be infinitely better than Petra had been.

*

Finding a way into the building’s basement had been surprisingly difficult, despite now being aware of its presence, but Edward was nothing if not persistent. He eventually opted to disable the private elevator to the apartment and set up a block and tackle rope and pulley system to allow himself to be lowered down.

With three of his team, two at the elevator and one accompanying him, they edged their way down the shaft. Reaching the bottom, he was unsurprised to see a set of doors. Taking a crowbar, the pair forced them open and headed inside, switching on flashlights as they went.  
It soon became apparent that the basement was an entire floor set up like many of the offices on the lower floors above. Although many of Battery City’s wealthier citizens lived in the building, several floors were also occupied by several of BLI’s administration and hospitality departments.  
Quickly finding a bank of light switches that illuminated the whole of the basement, Edward and his colleague began to explore the floor. Opening the first door they came across, it seemed to simply be an office equipped with ordinary furniture that anyone might expect to see. However, Edward frowned deeply as he closed the door; why was it even there? The furniture appeared new but not covered in a thick layer of dust, as would be expected if it had simply lain there since the building opened four years earlier.

Exploring further, Edward grew increasingly concerned as they found rooms that resembled BLI cells and interrogation rooms.

“This is bizarre, Kent,” he addressed his colleague. “It’s set up like a miniature S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit.”  
“And it all looks...” Kent paused. “New isn’t the right word. It looks like it’s in use.”  
“I don’t want word of this getting out,” Edward paused before opening the final door. “Nothing is to be said or reported on, not even to the rest of the team. I need to find out what’s...”

Edward gasped as he opened the final door at the far end of the basement. Beyond the door lay a mock up of an old cellar, grim and poorly lit with brickwork walls. What caught his attention particularly was a camera tripod lying on its side on the floor. Attached to one wall, only. A few feet off the floor were lengths of chain, both had been looped and secured with a padlock apparently to shorten them. A second shorter section dangled, each with an open padlock hanging from the final link. Near the corner, lay a balled up section of grey tape. Edward chewed his lower lip, he felt sick to his stomach; it was obvious from the layout and the remaining paraphernalia that this was were Gerard had been held during his now obviously fake abduction.

“What is it, sir?”  
“Do I have your word that this won’t be discussed?”  
“Even with the team, sir?” Kent raised an eyebrow.  
“I would like you to forget everything you’ve seen,” Edward pressed.  
“I don’t even know what I have seen!” Kent waved his arms out to the side, confused by Edward’s concern.  
“Kent, trust me.”  
“I take it we weren’t meant to see this.” Kent rolled his eyes.  
“No, we most definitely were not meant to see this.” Edward replied rolling his eyes.

Edward knew he was in a difficult situation. If Korse had some way of knowing they had been there and were to ask him about it, would he lie? That could be even more dangerous. The better option was surely to say that he understood the importance and secrecy of what he had seen.

“I think these are emergency, secret offices for BLI in the event of an attack on their headquarters,” Edward lied, offering a plausible story for Kent and any BLI officials listening in. “We don’t want anyone to be aware of this, it would be a serious security risk,” he added  
“Not a word,” Kent nodded, satisfied with the explanation. “We found nothing.”  
“Good,” Edward grimaced with concern. “Let’s get out of here.”

Returning via the elevator shaft, both men were dismissive of the basement to their waiting colleagues, suggesting it had possibly been intended for storage and simply forgotten about. Edward hoped that if the basement was equipped with hidden cameras and microphones, that the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit and particularly Madam Director Miharu and Chief Exterminator Vitkovski would accept his statements as the truth. He couldn’t help but wonder, however, if even they were aware of it.

*

Mikey placed the last of the food down on the rug and flopped down next to it. Around him were green, leafy trees, birds singing, even the gentle bubbling of a stream; he could almost believe he was truly outside relaxing in a park. Such everyday luxuries were not available to the Way brothers, who always had to consider the possibility of attack. The dangers had recently been terrifyingly and graphically brought home to them with Gerard being abducted from their home and held by rebels making political demands. Thankfully, he had been rescued, but not unharmed and Mikey and Frankie had arranged a picnic to celebrate and to try to raise his spirits. They both could see that he had suffered at the rebels’ hands and it had to have been a terrifying experience for him, but somehow, Gerard’s distant and morose behaviour since returning home seemed to point to something more. Something, it seemed, had disturbed him deeply, but he refused to discuss it.

The only options open to the two boys were to offer distractions. If they couldn’t go outside, they would bring the outside in. All the walls had bright and sunny landscape scenes projected onto them and several recordings playing at once gave the impression of being in a large park. Mikey had even managed to include the occasional bark of a puppy or two, knowing it would make Frankie happy. Handing a glass of lemonade to Gerard, Mikey beamed to see his brother offer him what seemed to be a genuine smile for the first time since he returned home three days earlier.  
The younger boys had really gone out of their way to create the illusion of a summer picnic in the park and Gerard even began to find himself unexpectedly relaxing. He genuinely hadn’t felt as if he would ever be able to relax again - especially in the home he had been taken from. Suddenly, all the security in the world couldn’t make it safe enough. It wasn’t even just his safety he was concerned about. He took a deep breath as he felt himself beginning to tense at the thought of Mikey’s safety being compromised, and even Frankie’s. He allowed the breath out in a slow deep exhalation; they had made such an effort to cheer him up, he wasn’t going to disappoint them.  
“So, whose idea was the carpet picnic?” Gerard asked, raising his glass to toast his brother and friend.

“Mikey’s,” Frankie grinned.  
“Well, both of us really,” Mikey added, searching for a sign of whether he liked it or not.  
“Who could ask for a better brother and best friend?” He sighed, smiling gratefully at them. “What would I do without you?”  
“Well, thankfully, you never have to find out,” Frankie replied cheerfully, helping himself to some pasta salad, mixed with chopped bell peppers and red onion and a dash of truffle oil. “You don’t get rid of me easily,” he grinned. “Well, not when the food’s this good,” he winked.  
“Good!” Gerard replied, his smile broadening. “I never want to lose either of you,” he added with the slightest hint of melancholy creeping in.  
“Come on,” Mikey encouraged. “Why don’t we have the best of both worlds and have a monster movie marathon with our picnic?”

Gerard smiled; Mikey suspected it was forced, but it was early days yet. Only three days had passed since his rescue and Gerard was still in a lot of pain and discomfort. Mikey wanted to know what was troubling him, he wanted to help, but didn’t want to push him too hard. Gerard was very protective of his younger brother, almost smotheringly so, but this time, Mikey wanted to protect him. The likelihood of being allowed to seemed slim, but he was determined to reach him somehow. Maybe Frankie could find out? They were very close, possibly even more so since he had returned. If anyone was going to get through to him, it would be Frankie.

*

Flex gently manipulated Jet’s wrist, feeling the joints and assessing the progress of the healing. Jet grimaced slightly as Flex pushed his hand up and backwards.

“That still hurts?” He asked, looking up with concern.  
“Yeah,” Jet nodded. “A little, but it’s getting better.”  
“Good,” Flex smiled. “I’m not surprised, to be honest. It’s actually doing really well. Keep up the exercises and I have a couple of new ones for you.”  
“How long do I have to keep doing them?” Jet asked.  
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to do it even when it’s healed. It’ll keep the mobility and strength up.”

Jet pouted, a grumpy expression creeping across his face.

“It’s going to be weak if I don’t?” he asked, lowering his eyes and sighing.  
“You’ve damaged a tendon, Jet,” Flex shrugged. “They take a long time to heal. But, you know, you’re young, it’ll heal well...”

Jet looked up again, grinning at the words.

“If you look after it.”  
“They’re boring,” Jet complained.  
“Well, don’t you want to have a strong enough hand to play guitar?” Flex beamed a broad smile at him. “I found you one, you know?”  
“You did?” Jet gasped, elated by the news.  
“Yeah,” Flex raised a warning finger. “You get it when your wrist is strong enough.”  
“Show me the new exercises!” Jet cried excitedly. “It’ll be fine in no time, you’ll see!”


	10. Coffee and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months later, things come to a head

Frankie gathered up the pillows and duvet that lay bundled in the corner of Gerard’s bedroom, delighting in the warm comfort they provided as soon as he held them. In Lawson’s apartment, his bed clothes had always been either inadequate or non-existent as a punishment. Frankie rarely knew what he was being punished for, but there was always something. He had simply grown to accept that he deserved no kindness and that no matter what he did to try to please his guardian, it was always the wrong thing. It pained Gerard to see the timid uncertainty in his friend; Frankie always appeared to assume he was in the way, causing trouble or unwanted and it broke his heart that this loving, kindhearted boy had no concept of how wonderful a friend he was.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asked as he turned; Gerard seemed present only in physical terms, his mind and feelings elsewhere.

There were a few seconds before Gerard fully registered that Frankie had spoken and his blank expression was briefly replaced by one of confusion. His furrowed brow finally smoothed as he looked directly at his friend and managed a half smile.

“Frankie...” Gerard put his hand to the back of his slightly tilted head and offered an awkward frown. “Would you... I mean...” Gerard took a deep breath. “No, it’s okay.”  
“Go on,” Frankie encouraged. Turning to place the bedding down to appear more available to Gerard, he noticed a slight lift in his friend’s expression. “Tell me, please?”

Gerard shifted from one foot to another and back again, looking down he swung his arms slightly, uncertain how to continue. Only when a hand was placed on his left arm did he look up again.

“Talk to me, Gee,” Frankie encouraged, looking up through his eyelashes with a sympathetic smile.  
“I... you’re my best friend, Frankie.”

Gerard stumbled over the words and Frankie couldn’t help but finding himself increasingly concerned about the usually articulate boy. Stepping closer, Frankie pulled Gerard into a hug.

“You’re my best friend too, Gee,” he added. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

It was as if Gerard had been granted new confidence by the words. Somehow the statement was making it easier for him to continue. Taking hold of Frankie’s arms, he stepped back so there were several inches between them.

“That’s sort of what I want to talk to you about,” Gerard began with more certainty in his voice.  
“You... you want me to leave?” Frank stammered before quickly composing himself. “I know, I said I’d find somewhere...”  
“No,” Gerard’s eyes widened suddenly. “I don’t want you to go.”

Frankie let out the slow deep breath that he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding.

“What is it, Gee?” He asked quietly.  
“I... I... would you stay with me?”  
“Of course. I...”  
“I mean... in here,” Gerard lowered his eyes, as if ashamed to ask the question.

Once again he raised his eyes as a hand was placed gently on his arm.

“You want me to sleep in here with you?”

Gerard nodded silently before finding his voice after a few moments.

“Ever since... Well, you know,” he shrugged. “I don’t want to be on my own.”  
“Of course,” Frankie replied gently, pulling him close for another embrace. “I’d do anything for you.”  
“Thanks, Frankie,” Gerard mumbled over his friend’s shoulder.  
“And just so you know,” Frankie pulled back to look directly into Gerard’s eyes, his expression fixed and serious. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”  
“You’ll save me?” Gerard smiled and nodded, hoping he didn’t give the impression he was trying to mock the younger boy.  
“Like you saved me,” Frankie grinned in response.

*

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

 

“Frankie?”

Mikey leaned closer to the younger boy. Both were sitting at the bar on the raised section of their living room but only Frankie seemed to be enjoying his breakfast. Until now, Mikey had merely been staring at his plate, occasionally using his fork to push and poke his food aimlessly.

“Mmhm?” Frankie replied looking up, his mouth full of cereal.  
“I’m worried about Gee,” he whispered.

Frank exhaled and stared thoughtfully into his bowl as he placed his spoon back on the counter and swallowed his food.

“It’s not just you,” he replied, also whispering, uncertainty and a sense of dread as to where the conversation was going filling his voice.  
“What do you think’s happened to him?” Mikey frowned, his voice suddenly higher in pitch and almost normal speaking volume.

Frankie placed a finger over his lips and nodded to the couch, on which Gerard was seated, merely staring, his eyes focused on nothing.

“I doubt he can hear me,” Mikey shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder if he knows we’re here.”  
“Sometimes I wonder if he knows he is!” Frankie returned immediately, staring with a worried and nervous expression at his best friend.

Turning his head to look toward the opening kitchen door, Mikey frowned as Jakob entered carrying a mug of coffee, heading straight for Gerard.

“Jakob?” Mikey called to their new assistant.

All Mikey knew about him was that Korse had recruited Jakob to take over from Petra after her sudden reassignment. None of the boys had either minded nor questioned what had happened to her; it was reasonable to say that they didn’t much care.

Jakob paused and turning to face the younger Way, he tipped his head with a questioning expression forming on his face.

“Yes, Mikey?”  
“There’s a full coffee pot here,” he pointed behind him to the fresh pot that Jakob had set brewing less than ten minutes earlier. “You just made it.”  
“Would you like me to pour you some coffee?” He asked innocently.  
“No,” Mikey’s brow furrowed further and Frankie found himself staring at his friend, uncertain what he was asking. “I want to know why you made Gee a special cup for him when you’ve already made a full pot here.”

Jakob’s expression morphed into a disconcerted frown as he simply stared at the young boy who was now eyeing him with deep suspicion. Frankie’s eyes widened slightly as it became apparent to him what Mikey was thinking. It hadn’t occurred to him for a moment that it could be anything other than an illness and he had been about to suggest calling Dr Roby, but now Mikey’s line of questioning was making more and more sense the longer he considered it. It scared him to think about what could be happening and how.

“It’s a different brand,” Jakob replied. “He likes it.”

To Frankie, the reply seemed plausible and he really wanted to believe it but Mikey still appeared sceptical.

“How come we haven’t tried it?” Mikey pressed. “I mean we might like it, then you only have to make one pot for us all.”  
“If you wish,” Jakob, replied. “I hadn’t given it much thought.”  
“Well, how about making a cup for me now?” He tilted his head questioningly. “I might like it.”  
“Of course,” Jakob placed the mug on the table in front of Gerard and turned to return to the kitchen. “What about you, Frankie? Would you like some?”

Frankie frowned; part of him wanted to say yes but the rest of him didn’t believe that the contents of the two mugs would be remotely similar.

“Yes, please, Jakob,” Mikey replied on the younger boy’s behalf. “One for Frankie, too.”  
“I’ll have to fetch more,” Jakob nodded. “I used the last of that jar for Gerard. I’ll be back in about forty minutes. Can you wait?”  
“We have this in the meantime,” Mikey jerked a thumb in the direction of the coffee pot behind him. “We can wait.”  
“Very well,” Jakob replied. “I’ll ask Edward to stay with you while I’m out.”

Watching as Jakob nodded politely and left the apartment, Frankie turned to ask Mikey what he was thinking and how unlikely it seemed that if he were drugging Gerard’s coffee, that theirs would be similarly dosed. Even as Frankie turned his head, Mikey was jumping down from his stool and ran to Gerard’s side.

“Mikey?” Frankie whispered, uncertain as to his friend’s intentions.

As Mikey arrived at the table, he snatched up the mug. Immediately, Gerard grabbed his brother’s free arm, digging his fingers between the muscles and tendons, causing Mikey to grimace and cry out with pain.

In a moment, Frankie was on his feet and racing to Mikey’s side. Pulling at Gerard’s fingers, Frankie huffed in frustration as he found them rigid like steel.

“Gee, let go of him!” He cried, alarmed by the very different expressions on both of the brothers’ faces.

Gerard stared unblinking at Mikey, his eyes narrowed with a dark murderous glare. He didn’t even seem to register that Frankie was there. Mikey, by contrast, appeared terrified. He had never seen that expression on Gerard’s face before and even the closest he had ever come had never been aimed at him. The younger Way was speechless and almost moved to tears by the unforgiving glare.

“Gee!” Frank yelled.

Slowly, Gerard turned his head to look at Frankie, his eyes glazed and apparently staring straight through him. Frankie gasped; it was terrifying for him to see the vacant glaze in his friend’s eyes, but all the while there remained the underlying anger.

“It’s mine,” he growled.

Reaching up with his other hand, he grasped the mug. Turning back to look at Mikey, he almost snarled.

“Let go!”

Without a word, Mikey released the mug and was instantly shoved backwards. He watched silently as Gerard brought the mug up to his lips and took a mouthful. As he swallowed, his tension seemed to drain away, most notably his shoulders slowly dropped and his expression softened. Taking a deep breath and another mouthful seemed to be a catalyst for Gerard to calm. Looking up once more, the oldest of the three stared at the others. He now appeared confused as he looked up. Frankie was aghast, pale and shaken. Mikey looked on the verge of tears.

“What?” He asked.

Gone was the growl he had adopted earlier and he genuinely seemed not to understand why they were staring at him or what could possibly be wrong. Frankie glanced briefly at Mikey who immediately fled the room. Gerard turned sharply, surprised by the response, almost spilling what remained of his coffee in the process.

“Mikes?” He called, his tone a mixture of concern and bewilderment. “Mikey?” He called louder this time.

Placing the mug back on the table, he quickly rose only to find himself immediately falling back onto the couch - the small yet surprisingly strong Frankie standing over him.

“What the fuck, Frankie!” Gerard’s eyes widened. “Mikey’s upset, I want to...”  
“So am I!” He returned, his face flushing slightly with anger.  
“Well...”

Gerard was at a loss; his brother and best friend were both upset - who to attend to first?

“Well... okay, but Frankie, I have to check on him. He’s my brother, you understand, don’t you?”

Frankie frowned deeply; was he serious?

“He’s upset because _you_ upset him!”  
“Me?” Gerard pulled back slightly, pointing to himself in disbelief. “What did I do?”

The confusion in his voice was evident and Frankie knew beyond a doubt that he was not faking this - he genuinely had no idea.

“You really don’t know, do you?” He replied shaking his head, lightly.

Gerard grew silent and pursed his lips. Lowering his gaze slightly, he felt suddenly unsure of everything.

“Frankie...” he looked up again, grateful that his friend’s accusing glare had softened. “Th-there have been times lately... I’m not sure how long. I mean how long it’s been happening... Well, not even how long the gaps are...”  
“Gaps?” Frankie queried, tilting his head with curiosity.  
“I’ve been having...” Gerard shrugged and waved his hands, palms up, in a gesture of confusion. “The only way I can describe it is gaps in my memory.”

Frankie frowned as he took a seat alongside Gerard and placed a comforting arm around his shoulder.

“Tell me about the gaps.”

Gerard looked briefly at Frankie before shaking his head lightly.

“I don’t know, I mean, I’ll be sitting somewhere and I’ll think that maybe it’s been a few minutes and I look at my watch and hours have passed. Sometimes, I’ll know I’ve had a conversation with someone, because I kind of come to, like I’ve just woken up and either I’m saying something or someone is answering me but I don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Turning towards him, Frankie’s heart sank as he noted Gerard’s deeply unhappy expression.

“Frankie? Am I going mad?” He whispered, barely audibly.  
“I don’t think so, Gee, but something is definitely wrong.”  
“Why was Mikey so upset? What did I do?” Gerard asked, once again lowering his eyes, concerned about what the reply might be.  
“He tried to take a sip of your coffee and you grabbed his arm so tight it’ll probably leave bruises. You yelled at him and made him let go. I couldn’t pull your fingers open to get you to let go, it was like a vice!”

Gerard blanched, distraught and severely shaken by the news, of which he had no memory.

“I... I don’t remember.”

The words stumbled out of his lips as he dropped his head into his hands.

“What’s happening to me?” He cried, his voice shaking and cracked.  
“I think you’re being drugged.”

Both Gerard and Frankie turned to look at Mikey in the doorway to the living room. He still seemed shaken by the encounter, but hearing Gerard’s words and frightened response had calmed his own concerns a great deal.

“Drugged?” Gerard’s eyes widened. “Who by? Why?”  
“By Jakob,” Mikey nodded to the mug. “In your coffee.”  
“But why?” Gerard repeated.

Frankie frowned and shook his head lightly.

“Nothing’s been the same since the night you were abducted by those rebels,” he began. “Petra left, Jakob appeared, no one got to the bottom of how they got in, and then you start acting strange.”  
“Could it be some sort of psychological reaction to the abduction? Maybe?” Gerard asked, pushing his hand up from his neck into his hair.  
“It’s possible,” Frankie nodded.  
“I’m telling you, you’re being drugged and I can prove it!” Mikey replied, walking with determination toward them.  
“How?” Gerard asked, unsure as to what Mikey would do to prove such a strange hypothesis.

As Mikey reached the table, the private elevator arrived and Edward let himself in, causing Gerard to turn his head. None of them had noticed it was on its way, and the unexpected opening of the doors drew a fearful reaction from Gerard. Sighing with relief as he saw it was Edward, he offered a brief wave in his direction. Before he could say hello, Mikey spoke again:

“I’ll show you!” Mikey replied, his determined tone unwavering.

As he reached down to pick up the mug from the table, he was brought to an abrupt halt and, he felt - they possibly all felt - that his theory had been confirmed.

“Mikey,” Edward warned, stepping forward and gently taking hold of his lower arm to prevent him putting the mug to his lips. “Don’t drink that.”

All eyes turned towards Edward and he stared back, grimly.

“I think we deserve an explanation,” Mikey replied frostily as he returned the mug to the table. “Don’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! Sorry for the delay in updating. Uni has been VERY busy and I’m having to write a few lines here and there when I can. I’ve moved the timeline on a bit, and will probably do that every now and then just to keep the pace and so the fic doesn’t last for decades! Lol!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. Taking Back Fun Day should be updated next, but not for a while yet - not done much on that chapter so far.
> 
> Hugs  
> Sas xx


	11. Rites of Passage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard is still acting strangely and Jet makes a serious mistake.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension as the boys stared expectantly at Edward. Each boy displayed a different expression on his face. Mikey was angry; his knit brow forcing deep lines to form across his forehead, his jaw clamped tight. Gerard looked scared, even upset; his eyes wide, his shoulders dropped and his skin clammy and pale. Frankie seemed both confused and concerned for Gerard’s well-being and barely moved his eyes from the older boy. Slipping his hand into Gerard’s he offered a comforting squeeze and pursed his lips as he noted that Gerard was so distracted, he barely registered the action.

Edward looked from Mikey to Gerard to Frankie before settling his eyes back on the accusatory glare of the younger Way brother.

“Well?” Mikey prompted. “What’s going on and why have you allowed it?” He snapped.

Edward ran his thumbnail across his right eyebrow as he considered the question. It was reasonable for them to ask, but he doubted that he had the answers they were expecting.

“We have about half an hour,” he gestured to the dining table near one of the large windows on the opposite side of the room. “I’ll tell you everything I know, and the stuff I suspect. But, and this is important,” he added as they all gathered to take a seat at the oval table, “I can’t prove most of it and even if I could, I’d disappear. Do you understand?”

Gerard nodded grimly; Frankie shrugged his shoulders, still only barely aware of anything but Gerard and Mikey merely continued to glare, reserving judgement until he had decided whether Edward could be trusted. Pulling out a chair each, all four settled at the table, the boys uncertain what was going to be revealed.

“Okay, I have my own theory but I don’t know for sure why Gerard was abducted. However, I do know who did it.”  
“It was the three rebels,” Mikey frowned, “we know that already.”

Edward appeared thoughtful, as if he were considering letting them in on the wider secret.

“No,” he shook his head. “That’s what you were supposed to think.”

Each of them frowned with a mixture of concern and confusion and they continued to stare, waiting for more detail.

“But, I saw them...” Gerard finally spoke. “They... they beat me... I...”

Gerard paused, looking away, unwilling to show the distress in his eyes to Mikey, only looking back when he felt a gentle squeeze of his hand. Glancing back to the table, he smiled weakly as he noticed Frankie’s concern and the younger boy’s small hand wrapped around his own.

“Gerard,” Edward sighed, gaining his attention once more, “did it not occur to you as strange that three rebels managed to obtain access to this building and this apartment? One of the most heavily guarded and fortified in the city.”  
“Of course it occurred to me!” Gerard snapped. “It’s given me nightmares ever since.”  
“And that the three rebels who took you are the same ones that you were supposed to have had executed that night in Traitor’s Square?” Edward allowed the secret he had been keeping out into the world to a stunned silence.

All eyes widened in shock at the words. Even Mikey lost his angry and stony glare, to be replaced by wide-eyed surprise.

“They...” Gerard gasped. “But how? I mean... it’s not possible.”  
“No, no no!” Mikey shook his head in disbelief. “You’re telling us that somehow these three escaped from their cells, found their way into this building, took Gee and got away? All without anyone seeing them?” Mikey scoffed, gesticulating as he spoke. “That’s not possible! You said it yourself, this is one of the most...”  
“But it did happen,” Frankie interrupted, drawing a hesitant silence from the brothers. “So... how?”

Gerard lifted his eyes to look at Edward, a deep sigh on his lips, his shoulders sagging as if under the weight of some new burden.

“There is only one way it could have happened,” he whispered, closing his eyes again in disbelief.

Mikey and Frankie looked from Gerard to Edward, puzzled expressions adorning their faces as they looked back once more to see Gerard shaking his head slowly and pushing a hand through his hair.

“I should have realised,” he said, finally looking back at Edward.  
“How could you have known?” Edward replied with a soft and gentle tone and a sympathetic tilt of his head.  
“What?” Mikey asked, irritable that he was in the dark while Gerard and Edward seemed both to have the answer.  
“What have we missed?” Frankie asked, equally puzzled.  
“Korse,” Gerard replied. “Only he could have got the rebels out of their cells and in here.”  
“No, what about Petra?” Mikey tipped his head at what he saw as a strange suggestion. “She could have let them in. You know she didn’t like you, Gee. That would explain why she disappeared after. Either she’s hiding from Korse or she’s dead.”  
“She wouldn’t have been able to get them out of their cells,” Edward corrected. “And if she’s dead, which she is, she couldn’t arrange for Gerard to be being drugged now.”  
“She’s dead?” Gerard’s eyes widened in surprise. “How do... Korse?”

Edward nodded grimly, and he continued to stare questioningly at Gerard. He had to explain everything now, there really wasn’t much choice.

“You were taken to a secret basement inside this building, Gerard. So secret, in fact, even I didn’t know about it until I studied the plans.” Edward explained. “When you arrived back here, you were unconscious so I can only assume that either after Korse found you, you passed out, or more likely, you were knocked out in some way.”  
“This doesn’t make any sense!” Mikey insisted. “Why would Korse hand Gee over to rebels? And he couldn’t have been in the basement? He would have got back much sooner if he was. It was over an hour before he arrived after you woke me.”

Edward took a deep breath; he had long suspected that Gerard’s indoctrination hadn’t been successful, but he knew that Mikey’s had. It was going to take a lot to convince him that Korse wasn’t the protective guardian that he claimed to be.

“Mikey, I found a way down there,” Edward explained carefully. “I found the room where he was held. I believe that Gerard was found so quickly because he was so brave.”  
“What do you mean?” Mikey frowned, the statement didn’t seem to make sense.  
“Gerard was supposed to read their list of demands,” Edward cast a concerned eye toward the older Way brother. “But they couldn’t make him. So the male rebel stood in front of the camera himself. Korse had to get in there, shut down the camera and kill the rebels before anyone recognised the man and realised his part in Gerard’s abduction.”

Mikey chewed his lower lip; as much as he didn’t want to believe it, the explanation was convincing. Korse had been certain of his brother’s rescue, he had found him at almost the very moment the rebel appeared in front of the camera. To do that, he would have had to have literally been standing outside the room. Perhaps he had even taken the rebels to the room himself? Raising his eyes, Mikey looked at Edward, who noticed the boy’s skin had paled slightly and he appeared nervous.

“Okay,” he began tentatively. “But why?”

It was Edward’s turn to be hesitant. He had to be very careful how this was handled - Mikey, if not all of them, seemed wary and uncertain. If he were to reveal too much of what he believed was Korse’s true nature to them, he feared they might reject the possibility and even have him arrested.

“I believe that Petra was trying to have Gerard put through indoctrination again by suggesting he was disloyal to BLI.”  
“That’s garbage!” Mikey snapped.  
“What is?” Frankie interrupted. “We all know that Petra hated Gee.”  
“No...” Mikey corrected. “I meant that he’s not disloyal.”

Edward spared another glance toward Gerard, but his expression was unreadable.

“I’m not saying that,” he replied, deciding to err on the side of caution. “I’m saying that she was trying to make Korse believe it.”  
“And you think that he had Gee abducted to prove a point!” Mikey’s eyes widened in surprise.  
“No,” Edward replied carefully. “To test a theory. Petra was proved wrong and now she’s dead.”

Edward took a deep breath as turned a dark penetrating stare towards him; he could see how hard it was for Gerard to hear. He knew that Korse had tortured Mikey to forget aspects of his past, that he had tried to do the same thing to Gerard. The one point he wasn’t certain of, was why had his expression darkened so much? Had he taken the explanation too far?

“What’s troubling you, Gerard?” Edward asked carefully.

Without changing his expression, and keeping his eyes locked with Edward’s, Gerard replied:

“You think Korse is callous enough to have me severely beaten? Just to test a theory?” He spoke in a low almost monotone fashion.  
“Honestly?” Edward paused; Gerard had very possibly been drugged on a daily basis with a low dose of Kanslokal for six months now. The reply he gave now could potentially lose him his life. “Yes, and I’m willing to bet that he’s been dosing you with Kanslokal for the last six months to keep you from seeing it,” he continued, holding his breath for a few moments to gauge Gerard’s response. 

*

It was a particularly rocky section of Route Guano that had become a favourite with rebels hoping to ambush BLI supply trucks, but because it had become commonplace, any convoys travelling through that area were now protected by a contingent of draculoids. Today would be no exception and the Rebel Stars were ready for it. 

Settled low on the ground, Dr Death Defying had positioned his men beyond the main attack point and in a place with much less cover. His thinking being that once past the usual trouble spot, both draculoids and drivers would have lowered their guards, making it much easier to strike. The plan today was daring - instead of merely raiding the trucks and taking what they could, this time the plan was to take the trucks themselves. They would be driven to a place where four vans would be waiting before filling the vans and driving them away to a number of locations, all desperate for supplies. The trucks could then simply be abandoned without alerting anyone of any hideouts or the destinations of the supplies.

The jeep had been positioned at the side of the road. The hood was up, affording the doctor some protection. A simple gadget that produced copious clouds of steam sat on top of the engine giving the impression of a damaged radiator. On one side of the road lay Flex and Leech, armed and ready to attack. On the same side as the doctor, Jet and a younger doctor - not long qualified before his enrolment into the army - the nickname BabyDoc had stuck and was now impossible to change. He wondered how old he would have to be before being allowed to cast it aside. However old that was, he very much hoped to reach it.

Behind him, Jet noticed a rocky outcrop which was raised above the road. From there he could see Dr Death Defying, and much further down Route Guano than he could from his current position. Keeping low, Jet moved to the outcrop, from which point he would be able to see the trucks approaching; it seemed a big improvement on his previous hiding place. Please with himself, he settled in to watch for draculoids approaching before the convoy arrived. It was only a few minutes later that he heard BabyDoc shouting in horror.

“Doc!” 

Death Defying turned his head to see a laughing draculoid standing over him, his ray gun aimed and ready to fire. From where he stood, he could see that the man who had shouted didn’t have a clear aim and the two men he had spied on the opposite side of the road couldn’t shoot without hitting the doctor.

“Throw down your weapon,” the draculoid ordered. “And tell your friends to do the same.”

Death Defying spared a glance toward where he knew Jet should be, but there was no sign of the boy. He had been perfectly placed to look for draculoids and warn them all, but he was nowhere to be seen. Death Defying took a deep breath as he dropped his gun.

“Tell the rest to...”

It was as far as the draculoid got before falling heavily to the ground, a black burn mark staining his otherwise pristine white uniform. Death Defying turned his head sharply to the right to see Jet, now standing, his gun in his still shaking hand and his skin so pale as to appear translucent.

Jet had moved out of position. There would be time later to explain why it had been a mistake, almost a fatal mistake, but for now, the doctor could see that the boy was visibly trembling. Taking a life was bad enough for a veteran soldier, but Jet was only twelve years old. To him it was unthinkable and he right now, he could barely see, hear or think. Dropping to his knees, Jet emptied the contents of his stomach and leaned on the rock, coughing and retching even after he had nothing left. Moments later, Flex was by his side and placed his arm across Jet’s shoulders, leading him to a safe area, beyond the strike zone. Jet was barely aware of what was happening, let alone who had guided him away. He had just killed a man and he could feel nothing but the horror and guilt of that moment. 

Flex frowned as he saw the boy struggling to come to terms with what he had done. He knew that it would happen at some point, it was always on the cards - but at age twelve? He doubted, from the condition of the boy, that he would recover from the shock quickly, if ever.


	12. Is it hard to stay clean?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward finds someone who can help Gerard, but will he?

Edward wasn’t certain he expected the exact response, but Mikey’s and Frankie’s eyes widened along with their mouths in astonishment as Gerard lunged forward, launching himself from the couch in a violent but scrappy form of attack on the security guard. 

“Traitor!” He screamed as he tried to knock Edward to the floor. “Rebel scum! I should have known!”

Trained in martial arts, Edward found it easy to counter Gerard’s attack and swat him to the floor, turning to lean over him and hold him down, still thrashing his limbs and trying to get the upper hand with the tall, broad and strong security guard.

“I thought it was Petra, but it was you!” He spat venomously.

Still hovering near the couch, Mikey stiffened, unsure what to do. Instinctively he wanted to protect his brother, but he was clearly not himself. Fighting Edward would probably only make things worse, but he felt so guilty allowing the older man to pin Gerard without trying to stop him. Almost as if reading his mind, Frankie placed a hand on Mikey’s arm and shook his head as the older boy looked at him. He knew in his heart that Edward was helping, that Gerard was acting strangely and violently due to the drug he was now certain he’d been given, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

Gerard’s eyes glazed for a moment before clearing and staring up bewildered and scared. His gaze flitting from Edward to Mikey and back.

“Wh-what’s going on?” He stammered.

Edward took a deep breath before sitting back on his heels. About to stand, Edward gasped again as Gerard lifted his leg and slammed his foot into his abdomen. Scrambling to stand, Gerard had miscalculated Edward’s recovery time; the man’s strength and stamina greater than he had imagined. Catching hold of Gerard’s ankle, he pulled the boy back to the floor before leaning closer to land a fist squarely on Gerard’s left jaw. Instantly, he sagged, eyes closed and his breathing suddenly calm. If he was faking that, Edward thought, it was a remarkably good job. Satisfied that Gerard was unconscious, Edward pushed himself to his feet, still breathing heavily, not with effort but with the sheer shock of what he had had to do. But it was nothing to what he still had to do.

Turning to face two very pale and scared boys, he inhaled deeply once more, letting it out slowly in a single continuous breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked after a short pause.

It was a generous question, sincerely meant. Yes, he knew that for what he’d just done Mikey had the power to have him at best sacked and at worst executed, but he could see the fear and concern in both boys’ eyes and was genuinely worried for their wellbeing.

At first, no one spoke or even moved until Mikey managed a short nod before letting out the breath he had been holding in a sudden gasp. Feeling suddenly lightheaded, Mikey flopped down onto the couch, still staring wide-eyed at Gerard, lying on the floor, the first bluish bloom of colour forming on his cheek. Frankie winced at the sight; he remembered the feeling of such painful bruising as if it were only the day before and his own memories flooded back. As Frankie silently took a seat next to Mikey, Edward spoke.

“I have to get him to a doctor.”

Mikey nodded, searching for his voice.

“I... I’ll call Dr Roby,” he finally managed.  
“No,” Edward countered as Mikey began to rise from the couch. “If he stays here, he’ll only be given more. I know someone,” Edward added cryptically. “Someone who’ll look after him, get him off the drugs and make sure he’s okay.”  
“Who?” Frankie asked, his brow creased, staring intently at Edward.  
“It’s better you don’t know,” Edward replied as he bent to scoop Gerard into his arms.  
“Wait!” Mikey cried with a hint of alarm. “I... I’m not sure about... I mean... where are you taking him?”  
“Mikey, do you trust me?” Edward asked holding his gaze.  
“I...” Mikey raised a hand to his mouth in uncertainty as he looked from Edward to Gerard to Frankie, then back to Edward. “I want to,” he admitted, “but how do I know who’s telling the truth?”

Edward pursed his lips; he understood the boy’s dilemma. Yes, he had come to the belief that Jakob was drugging his brother, but on whose orders? He was asking Mikey to choose between his guardian who had apparently looked after him for as long as he could remember and the security guard he had once trusted with his life. But time was pressing; Jakob would soon be back. 

“Mikey, you know, if I wanted to take him for personal gain, I could have done it a thousand times already. I could do it now, realistically, you couldn’t stop me.”

Mikey’s eyes widened at the words, encouraging Edward to continue swiftly.

“But I’m not,” he said with conviction. “I’m taking him to someone who can help him. I’ll go now, I have a scheduled appointment, so it won’t look strange that I left. After I’ve gone wait ten minutes or until you see the elevator being used again, which will probably be Jakob coming back and call Korse. Tell him that Gerard got angry about something and ran out. Say you couldn’t stop him.”  
“But he’ll want to look at the security cameras won’t he?” Mikey questioned.  
“Probably not,” Edward shook his head. “Not if you tell him, he’ll believe you.”  
“But he’ll want to see if he went anywhere else in the building. He won’t just assume he just left.”

Edward looked thoughtful and he found himself shrugging awkwardly, still holding Gerard in his arms.

“I’ll have to deal with that when the time comes.”  
“Leave it with me,” Frankie piped up, having remained silent throughout the exchange.  
“With you?” Mikey’s brow creased.

The corners of Edward’s mouth raised briefly; he knew of Frankie’s ability with computers and electronics - it had been part of his investigation into the boy’s background.

“I’ll sort it out,” he repeated. “I just need a laptop.”  
“Do you need the access codes?” Edward asked.

Frankie turned what seemed like a pitying smile toward the security guard before it morphed into a smirk.

“What are you planning to do?” Edward raised an eyebrow at the amusement on the boy’s face.  
“It’s better you don’t know,” he replied, using Edward’s phrase from earlier.

A light, almost unnoticeable laugh emerged from Edward’s lips at the exchange. Before he could say another word, Mikey spoke again.

“Go,” he urged. “Make him Gerard again.”  
“I’ll bring him back safe and sound, Mikey, I promise,” he replied with surprising affection.  
“I know,” Mikey nodded. 

Somehow, he had made the decision about who to trust and the answer had surprised him in many ways.

*

Leech looked up as Flex entered the back room of the abandoned pawn broker’s store that the Rebel Stars had made home some months earlier. As he turned his head, he saw Flex exhaling deeply and pushing a hand through has sand and dirt coated hair.

“I hate the desert,” he grumbled. “Always did, always will.”

Leech looked on, concerned by Flex’s stance and expression. His shoulders were hunched forward and he flopped, almost aggressively into an old armchair, slapping his arms down on the battered old leather before another deep sigh escaped his lips. He appeared angry and restless at the same time. Leech didn’t know how he managed it exactly, but a combination of a furrowed brow and a complete inability to sit still conveyed the mixture of emotions perfectly. 

“Out with it,” Leech insisted, staring expectantly at the physical therapist with raised eyebrows accentuating his already widened eyes.

Flex slowly turned his head toward the phlebotomist and tipped it slightly. If possible, now he had added confusion to the strange mix of emotions. The pair continued to stare at each other until finally Flex spoke.

“What?” He asked with a deep shrug.  
“I’ll take it from that response that you know exactly what but you want me to drag it out of you regardless.”

Flex narrowed his eyes; the older man could be infuriating at times. It was as if he could see right through him. It was exactly the same with Dr Death Defying; whatever it was they both had, they seemed able to see directly into his mind and, if honest, it freaked him out. Waving dismissively, Flex tried to pretend that on this occasion, the older man was wrong.

Scratching his newly forming beard, for want of a razor, Leech sighed.

“Oh, right, you want me to guess, then?” he offered a chuckle, which only irritated Flex more.  
“No,” he snapped in response. “I don’t.”  
“Well, it’s a good job I don’t have to then, isn’t it?” Leech replied, almost sounding bored.  
“Go on then, Mr Mind Reader,” Flex turned in the chair to face the other man square on. “Why don’t you tell me, then?”

Leech took a deep breath as he considered how frustrated the younger man both sounded and looked. Leaning forward and placing his lower arms on his knees, Leech offered his friend a sympathetic look.

“He still hasn’t spoken, has he?” The older man offered in a surprisingly gentle tone.

Flex, looked away and sighed deeply, He had grown fond of the young boy they had named Jet, particularly as he had worked so closely with him to rehabilitate his wrist. It had been a joy to hear the music Jet could play on the battered old guitar that he had found for him. Clearly skilled, it seemed effortless to him and as time had passed, he had grown ever more skilful with his intricate fretboard fingering. But ever since having to shoot and kill a draculoid, Jet had neither played his guitar, nor spoken a single word.

“No,” Flex looked down, all anger had drained instantly and he was left staring at the floor. “It doesn’t seem to matter what we do.”  
“What about BabyDoc?” Leech offered. “He’s got some psychiatric training. Can’t he try?”  
“He has,” Flex looked up once more. “Nothing’s reaching him.”  
“He’ll come around,” Leech offered with unexpected confidence.  
“How do you know that?” Flex sighed.  
“I don’t,” Leech admitted. “But I believe it.”

Flex nodded. It was all they had; he had to hope that somehow Jet would find his voice again.

As the room fell silent once more, the youngest member of the team of medics, BabyDoc, entered, tugging at his shirt collar.

“It’s hot today,” he offered by way of explanation.

Leech and Flex exchanged glances and smiled. Leech shook his head as he rose to offer his seat before heading out to take his watch.

“One day, you’re going to say something else,” he laughed.  
“It is hot!” The man objected.  
“It’s always hot!” Leech countered. “Next you’ll be saying it’s cold at night!”  
“Well, it is,” BabyDoc grumbled as he took his seat, glad that the interior, at least, was cooler.  
“I’ll see you later,” Leech waved, still chuckling.

*

It was just less than two hours later that Leech spotted a black car approaching. Providing a silent signal for the occupants of the hideout, Leech took cover behind a battered old hoarding and readied himself for a firefight. Inside, his companions were also arming themselves and taking up positions.

Slowly, the car came to a stop outside the abandoned store. To the casual observer, it still appeared abandoned, with no indication that it was occupied by anyone. Leech peered through a gap in the hoarding to get a first glimpse of the driver. He appeared to be travelling alone, but as he stepped out of the car, Leech stood upright, surprised, even shocked by what he saw. Stepping from behind the hoarding, he called out.

“Mole?” 

Edward’s lips curled into a smile as he spotted his old army buddy, and walked briskly to meet him. Pulling him into a hug and clapping him on the back good-naturedly, Edward was glad to see him.

“Leech, you old bloodsucker!” He grinned. “How are you?”  
“Oh, you know,” the older man grinned back. “Still alive.”  
“Glad to hear it! And see it!” He nodded as he pulled back.  
“What brings you out here?” Leech asked, before suddenly appearing suspicious. “And how did you know...?”

As he spoke, he glanced quickly further down the road, a nervous expression suddenly appearing on his weathered face.

“Come on, man, give me some credit!” Edward rolled his eyes. “I’m in security, there’s not much I can’t find out but I don’t have to share the information and I’m not leading dracs to your door.”  
“Sorry man,” Leech appeared contrite. “Habit,” he added, shrugging his shoulders.  
“Don’t worry, I get it. Look,” he began urgently. “I got to speak to the colonel.”  
“Don’t use rank anymore, Mole, just code names.”  
“I still need to speak to him, Leech,” Edward pressed.  
“Okay,” he nodded. “Bring your car around to the back and I’ll take you in.”

Doctor Death Defying looked up as the door to his office opened and Leech entered, closely followed by Edward, who immediately struck a respectful pose, standing to attention before his former colonel.

“At ease,” Death nodded before indicating for him to approach. “Eddie, long time. What brings you out here?”  
“I got a patient for you,” he replied cryptically.

Death Defying narrowed his eyes as he regarded the man who was his tactical advisor. He knew that Edward was now heading up his own security company in Battery City, but no more than that. As ever, information on the man was hard to come by. One thing he knew though was there were more than enough doctors and hospitals in Battery City. What was it about this one that he couldn’t take him to any one of them - even some of the seamier places would look the other way if required.

“Criminal?” He asked without judgement in his tone.  
“Depends on your outlook,” he replied without giving anything away. I got him in the car. Can I bring him in?”  
“What’s wrong with him?” Death asked with a suspicious edge to his tone.  
“Addicted to Kanslokal,” Edward answered.  
“I can’t do anything for you,” Death shook his head. “The whole of Bat City’s addicted. You gonna bring them all here?”  
“This is a kid, he’s just thirteen,” Edward offered a little more information, continuing when he spotted the sudden lack of concern on the older man’s face. “It’s not his fault. His guardian’s been giving it to him without his knowledge.”

Death Defying’s eyes widened at the news. Who would do such a thing to a thirteen year old? Kanslokal was dangerous until at least most growth had already been completed. Growing suddenly suspicious again, Death frowned.

“How do you know?” He asked, wondering if perhaps, somehow he’d been fooled.  
“I saw it,” he replied flatly.  
“Sick!” Death growled in disgust. “Bring him in.”

As Edward went out to the car once more, Death prepared a gurney for the child, checking the strength of the restraints attached to it. He expected him to be unruly, even wild as he went into withdrawal from the drug. The best he could hope was that it would be a short and relatively painless ordeal - there was very little else he could do other than make him comfortable while the toxins were purged from his body. Looking up as Edward returned, he was hardly surprised to see the boy was bound, gagged and, although weak from being locked in the trunk of Edward’s car for such a long journey in the early heat, struggling furiously. There was, however, one aspect that did surprise him.

“Gerard Way?” Death stated with both shock and deep concern colouring his voice. “You’ve brought the face of BLI to a rebel camp? Are you fucking crazy?”


	13. The One To Save You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Edward convince Dr Death Defying to help Gerard?

“I know you can help him, Doc,” Edward replied, keeping a firm hold on the struggling boy.

Death Defying wheeled from behind the desk and eyed the angry and defiant young boy.

“Probably,” he narrowed his eyes. “But why would I? He _is_ BLI. He’d have us killed without a second thought.”  
“No he wouldn’t,” Edward countered.

Behind the gag, Gerard tried to scream something that might have been, ‘Yes, I would!’. Death Defying raised a hand as if to indicate that his point had been proved for him.

“Not when he’s himself,” Edward sighed. “He’s not like that. He doesn’t believe in BLI. His indoctrination failed.”

Gerard stared at Dr Death Defying; his narrowed eyes and stance suggested that Edward’s words couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Well, we could use him as bargaining,” Death smirked.  
“No,” Edward replied firmly. “You get him off this drug or I take him back.”  
“And get yourself killed?” Death tipped his head, evaluating his former tactical advisor. “Are you playing me, Eddie?”  
“No,” came the quiet reply. “This kid...” he paused. “He can make things happen, but only if he has a clear head.”  
“What things?” Death scoffed. “He’s thirteen.”  
“Maybe not now, but when he grows up... if he grows up. You know what’ll happen to him if he stays on Kanslokal... at his age.”

Death Defying shook his head and lowered his eyes smiling.

“You are fucking playing me, Eddie,” he sighed.  
“Sir, you can help him,” Edward begged. “Please!”  
“If you’ve brought dracs to our door, Eddie...”  
“I haven’t,” he replied firmly.  
“You haven’t lost your touch, have you?” Death asked, taking a deep breath. “How long has he been on it?”  
“Thank you, sir,” Eddie exhaled with relief.  
“I haven’t said I’ll do it yet,” he reminded his former sergeant gruffly.  
“If I had to guess, five months minimum, maybe six.”  
“You’re guessing?” Death’s eyes widened. “I thought you said you knew?”  
“I know it’s happened, but I had to get proof to be sure.”

As the pair were talking, Gerard stopped struggling. There seemed little point; where could he go? They were out in the desert, who knows where? His hands were tied behind him, his ankles also bound, but with long enough rope between them to allow him to walk reasonably comfortably and, of course, he was gagged. Added to that, everyone knew his face, he wouldn’t last five minutes on his own if he did manage to escape.

“Five to six months?” Death took a deep breath as he considered the effect of the drug on someone so young.  
“Yeah,” Edward replied, sounding both deflated and disheartened.  
“You know he’s most likely not going to be himself again, don’t you?”

Edward grimaced; had he left it too long? Had he placed his friends in danger? Would Gerard ever be the boy he once was? If not, who would he be? Had BLI finally succeeded with him?

“What’s the prognosis?”  
“Paranoia, mistrust, recklessness? It’s likely that certain traits he used to have... emotional stuff... will be heightened. What was he afraid of?”  
“Needles,” Edward shrugged.  
“Oh, well, he’s not going to like the cure.”

Gerard’s eyes widened suddenly and he took a step back, almost colliding with Edward, suddenly reconsidering his chances out in the desert. Almost as if he sensed it, Edward took hold of his arms and held him firmly.

“He’s very protective over his brother. There’s something else behind that, but I’ve never found out what.”  
“You couldn’t find out?” Death smirked. “Never thought I’d live to hear that,” he laughed. “Yeah, well be prepared to see that stepped up to a whole new level.”  
“You’ll do it?” Edward asked hopefully.  
“Take his gag off,” Death instructed.

Edward began untying the knot, wondering why he wanted to speak to the boy. No matter what he said, the response was unlikely to be positive.

“So, Gerard, how do you feel about being here?” Death asked.

Gerard licked his dry lips with an equally dry tongue; he very much wanted his words to sound strong and defiant, but he knew that his voice was unlikely to be at its best.

“I’ve been taken by rebels before,” he croaked, much to his annoyance. “I’m still alive and they’re long dead. Don’t think your wheelchair will afford you any sympathy. You’ll burn and swing like all the other rebels and I’ll be watching.”  
“He’s a real charmer, isn’t he?” Death chuckled. “You sure this is worth it, Eddie?”  
“You know that’s just the drug talking, Colonel,” Edward pleaded.  
“He must mean a lot to you.”  
“He does,” Edward nodded. “I’ve taken care of him for three years. He’s not...”  
“Okay, okay,” Death waved a hand. “I believe you. Help me get him on the gurney.”

Edward looked at the gurney to his right, noting that it was fitted with restraints and they were open and ready for the patient. Gerard too had noticed and had begun to struggle once more. He was no match for the trained security guard and within moments, he had been scooped up and deposited on the gurney. Leaving his hands tied, Edward held his legs down as Death Defying fastened the restraints around his ankles.

“Let go of me!” Gerard screamed, trying hard to pull his legs out of Edward’s strong grip.  
“Feisty,” Death chuckled, as he fastened the first buckle on his right ankle.

Edward rolled his eyes as the comment infuriated Gerard only making him fight harder to get free. Realistically, there was already little he could do, but the mocking tone of the doctor just made it harder to restrain him. Lifting his hands from Gerard’s legs, Edward began untying the ropes that were still fastened around his ankles.

“You think we can finish this first?” Death asked, astonished by Edward’s actions.  
“I just... Yeah, sure,” Edward sighed, dropping the rope and moving up the gurney to Gerard’s wrists. “I’m going to have to untie him to get his arm to the edge of the gurney.”  
“And when you do, you won’t be...”

Gerard’s eyes widened as he turned his head to look at Death Defying. Even Edward’s eyes widened as he saw the doctor withdrawing a syringe from Gerard’s arm.

“What did you do?” Edward asked alarmed. Knowing of Gerard’s aversion to needles, he was shocked to see him use one so quickly.  
“You think I’m going to let him hurt himself, or us for that matter? If he fell off the gurney, he’d break both ankles!”

As the pair talked, Gerard grew still and, whilst still conscious, he seemed either too weak or disoriented to fight.

“Just a mild sedative,” Death explained. “Probably won’t even knock him out.”

Edward nodded; it hadn’t even occurred to him that Gerard could hurt himself.

“But, it will wear off quickly,” Death warned, “so let’s get on with it.”

Quickly untying the rope around Gerard’s hands, he was taken by surprise as the boy turned droopy but clearly terrified eyes towards him.

“Don’t leave me here, Edward,” he slurred, his eyes welling with tears. “Please!”

Lowering Gerard gently onto his back, the two men each took one of his arms and fastened them securely into the restraints.

“Edward!” Gerard pleaded, his tears flowing freely. “Don’t leave me here! I... where’s Mikey? Edward!”

Edward stood back, pale and shaken as Gerard continued to cry, pulling weakly on the straps holding him to the gurney. Slowly, his breathing and tears slowed as he drifted into a sleep. On the opposite side of the gurney, Death withdrew a second syringe and took a deep breath.

“That’s a good sign,” he nodded.  
“What is?” Edward asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  
“He accessed his true self.” He nodded. “He’s still in there.”  
“How do you know that wasn’t an act?” Edward asked, having witnessed Gerard’s impressive acting skills first-hand.  
“Saltafem.” He replied in a blunt, unapologetic tone.  
“You used a truth drug on him?” Edward leaned over Gerard, placing his hands on the side of the gurney, astonished by the admission. “And an unapproved one at that?”  
“Of course it’s unapproved!” Death snapped. “BLI don’t want anyone having access to the truth, do they?”  
“What if it’s dangerous?” Edward countered shaking his head, still in disbelief.  
“What? More dangerous than having him here?” Death nodded sharply towards Gerard. “These are dangerous days we live in, Eddie. I’ve already come too close for comfort. I’m not in a hurry to do it again! I’m a good doctor, but I’m not called Death Defying because of all the people I’ve kept alive. It’s because against all odds, I survived what put me in this chair and I’m not throwing that away for anyone. Least of all the face of BLI. I hope you’ve got a plan and a stash of carbons, Eddie, because even if I can get him clean, I don’t believe he won’t bring the Crows straight here! When we’re done here, we’re finding somewhere even you can’t track us to!”  
“I’m sorry, sir,” Edward replied, his eyes lowered. “I care about him. I had to try. I promise you, he’ll surprise you.”  
“Yeah,” Death grumbled. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

*

Frankie held a pen across his mouth almost like a horse’s bit and another of a different colour in his hand as he scrawled quickly in a notebook. At least, Mikey assumed it was scrawl - none of whatever he was writing made any sense to him. Symbols, letters, numbers, words that meant nothing to him. Frankie was engrossed in his task as he hunched over the laptop almost possessively, his eyes closer to the screen than Mikey thought necessary or even comfortable.

“What are you doing?” He finally asked.  
“Ih ee uh ih ih,” Frankie replied, not moving his eyes from the screen.

With a slightly irritable sigh, Mikey pulled the pen from Frankie’s mouth and moved closer to the boy’s eyeline as the action drew his attention for a moment.

“What are you doing?” He asked again, with his eyebrows raised in an expectant fashion.  
“I said give me a minute,” Frankie replied with a frown.  
“No, what you said was: ‘Ih ee uh ih ih’,”Mikey corrected, still waiting for an answer.  
“Same thing,” Frankie replied, holding up a hand to signal for his friend to have a little more patience.  
“What are you doing!” Mikey’s voice rose in both pitch and volume at the third time of asking.

Frankie sat back in the chair, closing the laptop and ripping out the pages he had used in the notebook with a triumphant flourish.

“Done!” He smiled, proud of himself. “Burn these,” he added, pushing the papers into Mikey’s hands.  
“Burn them yourself,” Mikey growled, irritated that the younger boy was apparently refusing to tell him what he had done.  
“Oh, don’t be such a grouch,” Frankie grinned.  
“What. Did. You. Do?” Mikey leaned on the table and asked once again in a pointed staccato fashion.  
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Frankie shrugged playfully.  
“If you don’t, I’ll kill you!” Came Mikey’s frustrated response.

Frankie rose from the chair chuckling at his friend’s aggrieved tone.

“You won’t kill me,” he laughed.  
“Oh? And why do you think that?”

Mikey stood upright, folding his arms and adopting his most intimidating pose. Momentarily, Frankie’s reaction made it appear that it had worked, drawing a smug smile from the younger Way brother.

“Because I’m in your head, Mikeyway,” he laughed again as he tapped Mikey’s temples. “I know where all your buttons are!” He added gathering up the papers and heading for the kitchen to burn them.  
“That’s because you put them there!” Mikey shouted back. Now beyond frustration, he flopped into a chair and into a gloomy, sulk.

Mikey rolled his eyes as the smoke alarm in the kitchen began to wail. Pushing himself out of the chair, he ran to the kitchen.

“You’ll have half the security team in here if you’re not careful!” Mikey scolded, switching off the alarm and snatching what was left of the papers from Frankie’s hands. “I’ll shred them.”  
“Might be best,” Frankie nodded, struggling to appear sheepish with the playful smirk threatening to show itself at any moment.  
“You’re...” Mikey began angrily, but freezing as he saw his friend’s wide-eyed expression as he took a step back. “You’re welcome.”

Mikey forced a smile to reassure the younger boy. He was still irritated by Frankie’s ability to get under his skin, but relieved he had enough self-control to notice the boy’s automatic reaction to anger and was figuratively kicking himself for almost telling him he was useless, as his guardian had done so often - usually before, during or even after a beating.

“I... I’ll tell you what I did,” Frankie stammered still tense and shaken.

Mikey’s eyes widened slightly. What had that selfish, evil and cruel bastard done to this sweet, caring boy?

“Not if you have to kill me after,” Mikey broadened his smile, pulling Frankie towards him for a brief, playful hug, relieved to feel him relax in those few brief moments. “Come on, let’s have some coffee and you can tell me what your brilliant and devious mind has been up to.”  
“Okay,” Frankie smiled brightly as he looked up at his friend. Somewhere inside, he struggled with the reality that he could have such caring friends, but he relished every moment.

Feeding the pages into the shredder, Mikey looked up sharply as he noticed the elevator starting to head down to the ground floor; it was almost certainly Jakob returning.

“I have to call Korse,” he spoke in a grim tone. “Prepare yourself for an Oscar winning performance.”


	14. Back on Speaking Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey wins an Oscar and Gerard wakes up

The phone was still ringing when the elevator doors opened. Mikey and Frankie both turned their heads towards the doors as they opened, their eyes widening as Exterminator Korse stepped into the room. Mikey launched into his act.

“Oh!” He cried, both surprised and, to Korse’s surprise, he sounded relieved. “Thank goodness it’s you! You have to find him!”

Mikey turned back to the receiver as a voice greeted him.

“Never mind, he’s here,” he stated quickly, before hastily replacing the phone on the charging cradle. “How did you know? Please tell me you’ve found him?”

Korse, frowned deeply, mystified as to what his nephew meant. He eyed Mikey with puzzlement before glancing to the younger boy, Frankie, and back again.

“Where is Gerard?” He asked, surprised to see only the two boys.

Mikey’s eyes widened still further and his mouth opened in imitation horror as he conveyed his dismay to the exterminator. Glancing briefly at each other, both Mikey and Frankie moved quickly toward Korse, Mikey talking like a speeding train.

“You don’t know? I thought you’d found him. I thought that’s why you were here. I was just calling you,” he pointed back to the phone with his left arm, still not moving his eyes from Korse.  
“What happened?” Korse asked with concern.  
“I don’t know what happened!” Mikey’s voice sounded as if it was about to crack under the pressure of his worry. “One minute he’s drinking his coffee...”  
“Coffee?” Korse asked.

Looking past Mikey, he spied the mug still resting on the table. It was clear a few mouthfuls had been taken from it, but that it remained at least half full.

“Yeah...” Mikey paused. “That special brand he likes. He takes a couple of sips and... and I don’t know what happened. He just flew into a rage! Said he had to get out. Before we know what’s happening, he’s in the elevator! Alone!”  
“Why didn’t...” Korse frowned deeply. “Where is Jakob?”  
“He left to get more coffee,” Mikey shrugged. “I wanted to try it, but he said he’d run out. Please! This isn’t finding Gee!”  
“Why didn’t Edward stop him?” He growled angrily.  
“I called down,” Mikey’s expression grew increasingly panicked. “No one answered.”

Korse narrowed his eyes, furious that they were left alone and unprotected. Worse still, had Jakob got the dosages wrong? Gerard’s reaction to the drug would have been unpredictable at best, but giving him too much could explain the sudden erratic behaviour. Taking a moment to remember entering the building, Korse remembered seeing Edward’s deputy returning to reception, presumably after completing one of the many walk throughs that were part of his duties. It was at this point he recalled that Edward had a regular weekly appointment in the Zones with a reliable informant, thus explaining his absence. Could they really have been so unlucky with the timing of the incident that both Edward and his deputy were absent at the moment Gerard entered reception from the express elevator? And Jakob gone also? For Korse, it was too much of a coincidence.

“We even tried to follow in the other elevator, but it’s not working,” Frankie added, his tone equally urgent.  
“Not...” Korse appeared alarmed. “No one flagged this to me.”  
“We didn’t know until we tried to use it!” Frankie added, his tone somewhat defensive.  
“I didn’t...” Korse shook his head in frustration; it was irrelevant explaining that he hadn’t meant that the boys should have raised it with him. “Do you have any idea where he was heading?”  
“No.”

Mikey’s voice sounded suddenly pained and small, inspiring Frankie to turn a concerned glance towards him. Internally, he was impressed; Mikey’s acting was extremely convincing.

“I’ll get the deputy guard to check the security tapes in case he’s still in the building. I want you both to stay here; do not leave this apartment for any reason. Do you understand?”  
“What if Gee calls?” Mikey asked, still looking and sounding stressed. “What if he wants us to meet him somewhere?”  
“Find out where, promise to meet him, tell me where his is and stay here!” Korse instructed forcefully.  
“But, if he’s in danger or upset or...”  
“Gerard would not simply run from the building,” Korse tempered his tone to try to make his younger nephew listen. “Something has happened. I don’t know what, but I have to consider the possibility that it’s a rebel plot. If so, I don’t want you falling prey to whatever plans they may have. Do you understand?”  
“Rebels?” Mikey gasped, taking a step back, almost appearing to stagger. “Again?”  
“Don’t worry, Mikey,” Korse replied, his tone growing clipped again as he grew impatient having to calm the boy instead of initiating an immediate search. “We will find him. I need to activate a search operation. I can’t stay, do you understand?”  
“Yes,” Mikey replied weakly. “Will Jakob be back soon, then?”

Korse frowned deeply as he regarded the two boys, both clearly upset and worried. Jakob had almost certainly given Gerard too much Kanslokal, which was bad enough, but also he had to consider the possibility that the P.A. had engineered Gerard’s disappearance. Whatever the cause, questions would be asked.

“Jakob will not be returning,” he returned flatly before turning quickly on his heels and heading back to the elevator. “Do not leave!” He instructed once more as the doors began to close.

Watching the indicator above the elevator, the boys waited until it showed that the car had moved down several floors before turning to face each other. Grinning at their success, Mikey and Frankie celebrated with a silent high-five. Almost as both arms were lowered, Mikey was frowning once more.

“Have we done the right thing?” He asked, once again growing uncertain.

Frankie pondered the question. He thought about Korse and how he had placed two assistants to look after the Ways, both of whom had been at the very least questionable in their treatment of the brothers. Letting his mind move on to Edward, who had seemed genuinely concerned over Gerard when he was taken by rebels and had remained at the apartment to comfort and support them. He hadn’t even slept until Gerard was found and returned. He thought about what Gerard had told him Edward had done to ensure that Frankie never had to return to his guardian again. As the final thought crossed his mind, he was already nodding; there was absolutely no doubt in his mind who they should trust.

*

Gerard was waking up. Slowly at first, his breathing deepened and he licked his dry lips. He had no idea how long he had been asleep but his mouth was parched and he was feeling stiff, his back ached and his head throbbed. Trying to open his eyes seemed to be a major stumbling block. The lids seemed almost too heavy to move and any exertion made him feel queasy. Trying to move, even shifting his position slightly caused his joints to ache. It was how he imagined he would feel if he had run a marathon, with very little training. Even as he thought about how bad he felt, his head began to pound; it seemed to suggest that even thinking was too much of an effort for his beleaguered body.

Taking a little more air into his lungs, Gerard noticed a sudden churning in the pit of his stomach. Even with his eyes closed he could feel everything spinning and tilting as if he were on a crazy fairground ride. Trying desperately to ride out the feeling, he worked hard to keep his breathing as steady as he could, but as the churning sensation grew, his breathing came in fitful gaps, snatched at irregular intervals. Swallowing repeatedly as his mouth filled with saliva, Gerard knew what was about to happen. Trying desperately to ward off the inevitable, he attempted to force himself to relax, but he knew he was far beyond the point of return. Within moments, he had turned as far as he was able and unloaded the contents of his stomach over the side of the gurney. Unable to sit up, for reasons he had not yet worked out, Gerard coughed and retched awkwardly as he tried hard to keep the vomit from landing on the bed itself. The constant pull of his intestinal muscles effectively working backwards was painful, but the bile and acid that rose into his throat and mouth felt infinitely worse. His eyes watered as he continued to cough and moan weakly. Allowing his head to flop back on the gurney, Gerard took several deep, wrenching breaths, occasionally raising himself briefly to spit over the side of the gurney to rid himself of both the taste and the sensation of what had moved so violently through his mouth. Flopping back one final time, his eyes tightly closed with tears of pain and exhaustion running down the sides of his face into his ears and hair, Gerard gasped as slowly his tense and aching body started to relax after its ordeal.

It was almost a minute or two later, having finally managed to return his breathing to near normal levels, that he heard someone moving to his left. Allowing his head to roll to the left, he raised an eyebrow as he saw no one. Could he have imagined it?

“Who’s there?” He asked, receiving no reply.

It was only at that point that his somewhat recovered mind recalled that he had tried to move without success. Trying once more, he frowned as he now realised that his arms were held in place by something fastened around his wrists. Whatever it was allowed a small amount of movement, but it was severely limited, possibly only a few inches, if that. If Gerard had had the energy, he would have become alarmed by his situation, and would have tried to fight against his bonds. As it was, all he could manage was a general feeling of distress and mild panic. His brow creased deeply as he now noticed that he didn’t recognise his surroundings and his breathing quickened once more. A second noise to his left, raised his anxiety levels further.

“Who’s there?” He cried. “Where am I? Why... why can’t I move?”

Gerard gasped in shock as a head and a pair of shoulders suddenly appeared at the side of the gurney. His wide eyes took in the unexpected sight of a boy roughly his own age with a mass of light brown curly hair. With a moment now to consider it, Gerard realised that the boy had probably been clearing up the mess he had just made. As if to confirm his thoughts, the boy was tying a knot in a bag and reached over with a damp cloth to wipe Gerard’s mouth and cheek gently. There was something about the expression on the boy’s face that drained all of Gerard’s feelings of distress in an instant. There was a deep sadness reflected back at him that suggested this boy was three times his actual age and despite his situation, Gerard found himself inexplicably concerned for the boy.

“Who are you?” He asked again, this time his voice was calm and measured. “I didn’t spit on you did I?”

As Gerard asked the question, he surprised even himself. This boy, probably part of a band of rebels, may have been looking after him, but it still didn’t detract from the fact that he was tied down to a gurney, far from home and almost certainly in grave danger. At that moment, he had no memory of how he had got there, but he could recall the last time he had been held by rebels. The severe beatings, the threats and above all the fear for his life. Yet here he was, concerned for this silent boy with kind but deeply saddened eyes.

Jet looked at Gerard, equally surprised by the unexpected question. Offering a faint smile, he shook his head, his curls bouncing lightly at the movement. Placing the bag and damp cloth down on top of a battered old metal filing cabinet, Jet raised the head end of the gurney before placing a cup of water to Gerard’s lips. Pausing briefly, Gerard allowed him to tip a little of the brackish water into his mouth. Turning sharply to his right, Gerard spat the water straight out, before turning an angry glare back to the boy.

“What is that?” He demanded.

Gerard’s anger diminished rapidly as he saw the surprise and even alarm in the boy’s expression as he merely stared, his lips parted and still holding the cup near Gerard’s face.

“That wasn’t water,” Gerard added, more puzzled by his own reaction than even the other boy’s.

Jet merely nodded, his brow lightly creased.

“But...” Gerard began as he stared back, still unsure why he felt sympathy for the boy. Surprising himself further, he continued. “Is that what water tastes like in the Zones?”

Jet nodded again, raising the cup as if to ask if he wanted more. Gerard nodded taking a grateful sip despite the foul taste. Screwing his face up with distaste at the metallic flavour, Gerard took as much as he felt able to without once again being sick.

Once again, Gerard looked into the boy’s eyes; the depth of sadness in them drawing a wave, even a flood of empathy for him, despite his captive status.

“What’s your name?” Gerard asked gently.

The curly-haired boy stared impassively at Gerard for almost twenty seconds before taking a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, he closed his eyes briefly before nodding.

“Jet,” he replied simply.


	15. I’ll Let You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a lot of concern over others’ wellbeing but will matters be resolved?

“Jet?” He asked; aware that rebels often adopted code names to disguise their identity. “Is that your real name?”  
“No,” Jet replied simply, turning to place the cup down on the floor.  
“Are you a rebel?” Gerard asked cautiously, noting that both his hands and feet were secured to the gurney, with no recollection of how he had got there.

Jet seemed to give the question some thought. He lived with the Rebel Stars and fought with them willingly, but it was the first time he’d ever really considered his status.  
“I guess,” he shrugged.  
“You don’t say much, do you?” Gerard commented dryly.

Jet sighed; this had been the most he had spoken since that fateful day when he had killed a man for the first time. His shoulders fell and he broke eye contact with Gerard, his expression saying much more than any number of words could.

“Hey,” Gerard said softly. “I... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

He paused, checking himself; suddenly bewildered over why he was apologising to a rebel who had presumably taken him from the safety of Battery City and held him somewhere in the Zones, fastened to a gurney.

“Wait...! Why am I apologising? You’ve abducted me!” Gerard continued, attributing his strange reaction to a response to whatever drug they must have used on him to take him, although as he grew more animated he became aware of an ache in his jaw too.

Jet’s eyes widened at the sudden outburst and he took two steps back in surprise at both the increase in volume and Gerard’s sudden straining on the straps holding him down.

“What do you want?” Gerard snapped. “Well? What do you want from me?”  
“Nothing,” Jet responded, his voice quiet but raising in pitch.

Gerard merely stared in reply, increasingly confused. The boy was pulling a protective response from him and he couldn’t understand why. This odd, practically silent boy was probably not alone. Whoever they were, they had, he assumed from how he felt, drugged him, abducted him and were holding him for some purpose. Either he didn’t know what that purpose was or he was lying. Either way, it didn’t explain why he was so concerned about him. As he thought about it, his rising stress caused another familiar feeling and Gerard’s normally pale face almost greyed. Without even needing to ask, Jet spun around quickly snatching up a grubby, paint-splashed and battered old bucket, holding it up to Gerard’s head. With no time to acknowledge the gesture, Gerard was sick again. Very little came up this time, mostly water, but the retching continued for some time and the pain and exhaustion was showing in Gerard’s eyes as finally his heaving settled and he slumped back on the gurney, breathing heavily with tears pricking at his eyes. His brow smoothed as Jet held a cool damp cloth to it while he wiped Gerard’s mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Jet added, frowning as he saw Gerard’s dampened lashes. “This isn’t going to be easy for you.”

Gerard opened his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to blink away the tears misting his sight. Looking at the now blurry form of Jet, he offered a pained and scared frown.

“What do you want from me?” He repeated, his voice drained and small, the words dragging through his agonised throat.  
“Nothing,” Jet shook his head, even the slow bounce of his curls making Gerard feel queasy enough to close his eyes once more. “I’ll get Doc, he’ll explain.”  
“Wait,” Gerard opened up his eyes once more. “What’s your real name?”  
“I don’t know,” Jet shrugged. “Really,” he added as Gerard’s eyes narrowed with scepticism.

It was too difficult to keep up the expression; Gerard closed his eyes and fell back onto the gurney once more, glad to be semi-reclined, which seemed to help, but still feeling very ill, sore and weary. Hearing Jet leave he waited for the sound of someone returning. The sound appeared within a minute or two, but Gerard was again sleeping long before Death Defying’s arrival.

*

Edward swiped his pass to enter the building only to be greeted by his stressed deputy waving frantically to him, whilst standing amidst several draculoids. Breaking into a run, Edward was at his side in moments.

“Carl? What’s wrong?” Edward feigned surprise. “What are these draculoids doing here?”  
“It’s Gerard,” the Deputy replied, his brow deeply furrowed. “He’s gone.”  
“What?” Edward asked, sounding alarmed as he glanced once more at the additional security standing nearby. “What’s happened? Rebels?”  
“We don’t know, well not really. All we know is Jakob left the building after disabling the security cameras then while I was on my rounds, apparently Gerard just ran out.”  
“How?” Edward frowned; this time he didn’t even need to act puzzled.  
“Well... he just got in the elevator and...”  
“I meant, if it was Jakob, how did he force him to just run out after he’d left?” Edward pressed.  
“Korse thinks he’s slipped him something to make him act strange. According to his account he bought some Frammen last week.”  
“Frammen? But that’s a BLI regulated drug how did he even get his hands on that? He doesn’t have the authority.”  
“He used Korse’s passcode.”

Edward stood upright, almost leaning back and shaking began his head. Kanslokal was one thing, but Frammen was altogether a different animal.

“When it’s mixed with caffeine it causes aggressive behaviour and paranoia,” Carl explained.  
“I know,” Edward sighed. “And it’s really potent. So Gerard is out there somewhere hopped up on Frammen? Have you organised a search party?”  
“Korse has taken charge, he thinks Jakob’s got him.”  
“Why?” Edward frowned. The man was a P.A.. He had investigated him himself, there were no rebel leanings in his history, nor any financial issues.  
“It looks like his investments tanked and he was broke. Korse’s tech team found an encrypted email from some crime lord offering to buy the Ways for ten million carbons.”  
“What about Mikey? Is he safe?” Edward asked suddenly concerned for the younger brother.  
“He’s in the apartment with Frankie. There are dracs in the elevators and outside the doors too.”  
“Good,” he nodded. “Good work,” he added patting Carl on the shoulder. “If you hear from Korse, let me know. If you hear anything, let me know. I’m going up to check on them.” He added as he headed briskly to the express elevator.

*

“You did all that?” Mikey’s eyes widened as he sat beside Frankie, astonished by the summary of the younger boy’s speed and ingenuity with the computer. “How did you get Korse’s passcode?”  
“Oh, I’ve had that for ages,” he beamed a grin at Mikey, almost preening himself at the admiration shown him. “How do you think I have any money?”

Mikey stared blankly and shook his head, waiting for him to continue.

“I set myself up as my own guardian,” Frankie’s grin appeared to grow ever wider. “I used his passcode to authorise it, but redirected it to a fake account so he doesn’t get any messages about it. They pay the fees directly into my bank account. Being a guardian pays really well! It won’t be long before I’m as rich as you guys!” He laughed.  
“Rich?” Mikey laughed. “We don’t see any of that money! If we say we want something, they’ll usually get it for us, but...” he paused to pull out the linings of his pockets, “...we don’t actually have any money.”  
“Like royalty,” Frankie smirked. “It just wouldn’t do for a Way to jingle.”

As they laughed together, Frankie’s faded quickly as he noticed the elevator on the move again.

“Oh, here we go,” he nodded. “Put your concerned brother head on.”

Mikey turned to look at the rising numbers on the display; the elevator would soon arrive. In an instant, he was ready with a deeply troubled expression that Frankie thought worthy of an award. As the doors opened to reveal Edward, Mikey looked past him to see if he was accompanied. Seeing only the draculoid, he held his expression until the doors closed once more then allowing it to soften.

“Is Gee okay?” He asked with concern.

Edward frowned; he felt certain that his investigation had given him the answers he needed. How could he now tell Mikey that his brother was very possibly even more ill than he first thought?

“Mikey,” he sighed. “Frankie, sit down, I’ve just heard some very disturbing news.”

Mikey’s eyes widened and he glanced at Frankie briefly; the pair wore the same worried expression. Taking a seat on the couch, the boys looked up expectantly as Edward remained standing.

“Boys, I’ve let you down.”

At the sight of Mikey almost starting to hyperventilate, Edward cut in again quickly.

“Gerard will be fine,” he raised his hands in a calming gesture. “I just didn’t realise the extent of Jakob’s involvement in what was happening to him. Neither did I truly appreciate what he was giving him. I believed it to be Kanslokal...”

Edward paused, confused as both boys broke into a grin.

“What’s going on?” He eyed them suspiciously but with a half-formed smile crossing his lips.  
“You mean the Frammen that Jakob ordered?” Frankie raised an amused eyebrow.  
“How do you...” Edward broke off as he saw the laptop still lying on the table. “You did all that? The Frammen, Korse’s passcode, the email?”  
“And wiped the footage,” Frankie replied with a smug smile.  
“And made it look like Jakob did it?” Edward asked with a frown. “I know he’s been dosing Gerard, but it was on Korse’s orders. You know he’s going to kill him, don’t you?”

Frankie folded his arms and his features hardened.

“Give me a reason why he shouldn’t.”  
“I just did,” Edward replied bluntly.  
“Fine!” Frankie snapped, leaning forward and grabbing the laptop.  
“Wait, what are you going to do?”  
“I...” Frankie sighed. “I did consider that and I built in a layer to make it seem that the computer was hacked by someone outside of Battery City. I just have to enable it. It’ll look like they just logged out clumsily and the tech team will pick it up.”  
“Are you sure?” Edward pressed.  
“The way I’ve set it up, they’d have to be blind not to see it!”  
“Thank you.”  
“For what? He’s going to kill him anyway,” Frankie complained as he set the laptop back down on the table.  
“Why do you think that?” Edward tipped his head to the right, unsure of the boy’s logic.  
“Because that’s what Korse does when someone screws up and it could lead right back to him. You’ll find Jakob, sure, but he’ll be dead when you find him.”

Edward inhaled deeply at the words; Frankie was probably right. Whether it was Jakob’s fault or not, overdose of Kanslokal or not, Korse would not want an investigation that might well lead back to him. He was far too ambitious to risk it and far too clever to allow it. It did, however, pain him to hear the words from one who had long since lost his boyhood innocence at the hands of BLI.

“So,” Mikey began again, breaking the silence. “Is Gee going to be okay?”  
“He is,” Edward nodded. “It’s going to be really hard for him. He’ll have severe withdrawal symptoms but he’s in good hands.”

Choosing not to tell the boys about how it was necessary to bind and gag him for the journey, to secure him to a gurney and his desperate struggles to escape, Edward felt somewhat guilty about his statement but the less they knew the better.

“When will he be back?” Mikey asked quietly but firmly.  
“I don’t know,” Edward replied honestly. “I’m guessing a week, maybe two?”  
“Two weeks!” Mikey gasped as only now did he take in the seriousness of the addiction. “Why didn’t you do something earlier?”

There were so many reasons - his investigation was a solo effort for security and it had taken some time to discover what was happening, mostly because in the early stages Gerard had seemed perfectly well. It had only been when he started to withdraw that Edward had grown suspicious. Was it worth explaining? Mikey was missing his brother and Frankie, his friend. They were young and scared, and that fear was behind the question more than anything else.

“I’m sorry, Mikey. I’ll make sure he’s okay and that it doesn’t happen again though. I promise.”

Mikey sighed; there really wasn’t much else he could do.

*

“Hey, Jet?”

Death Defying called to the thirteen year old boy as he passed his office. Stopping and looking in, Jet saw the man waving to him to come in.

“Come in, come in!” Death continued to motion with his hand.  
“Sir?” Jet replied respectfully as he walked in.

Death Defying smiled sympathetically at the boy.

“Sit down, Jet.”

Taking a seat, the boy found it difficult to maintain eye contact with the doctor.

“It’s good to hear you talking again.” He paused as the room hung in silence for a few moments. “I know Flex’ll be happy to know. He’s been really worried about you.”  
“I’m sorry,” Jet choked out quietly.  
“No,” Death replied with a surprisingly defeated tone, drawing Jet’s concerned glance. “I let you down, Jet. I didn’t teach you why I wanted you to do what I asked. You’re a bright boy and your instincts where good about that vantage point.”  
“You didn’t let me down,” Jet interrupted, almost tripping on his words as he speeded up as he spoke. “I let you down! You were nearly ghosted because of me!”  
“And I wasn’t because of you,” he replied solemnly. “And that’s where I let you down. You were too young to be forced into a position where you had to kill and I’m sorry.”  
“I couldn’t let you... I couldn’t!” Jet stammered.

Death Defying wheeled out from the opposite side of the desk and drew up alongside Jet.

“You did what you had to do and I’m grateful, of course I am, but it took it’s toll on you.”  
“I... I’ve never... I mean... I can’t...” Jet struggled to find the right words before finally settling on the blunt statement. “I killed him.”

Death frowned as the words emerged from Jet’s lips strangled and pained. There was nothing he could say in reply as he watched the tears begin to roll down Jet’s cheeks. Leaning forward, Death Defying motioned Jet to move closer. At first hesitating, Jet finally accepted the offer of comfort as he broke into heart-wrenching sobs.

“It’s okay, Jet,” Death whispered as he stroked the boy’s hair soothingly. “We’ve all been there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, on that note - Merry Christmas! :P
> 
> Sas xx


	16. Home is Where the Hurt Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The present catches up with Frankie and Gerard meets another member of the Rebel Stars

“What do you mean?” Korse leaned forward across his desk.  
“Just that, sir,” the man replied with a puzzled look on his face. “There’s a discrepancy.”

Korse sat back in his chair once more and stared at the visitor to his office. Looking at his security badge, he reconfirmed for himself what the man was doing there. An accountant. He had better things to do than talk with accountants.

“Why are you bringing this to me?” He tipped his head, mildly irritated by the man’s insistence. “Is it a security issue?”  
“No, sir,” the accountant’s puzzled expression grew increasingly intense.  
“Then, I’ll ask you again and be warned, there had better be a damn good reason for your wasting my time. Why are you bringing this to me?”  
“Well...” the accountant shifted position as he thought of the best way to explain. “You did authorise it, sir.”  
“I...” now it was Korse’s turn to appear puzzled. “I authorised what?”  
“The guardianship, sir.” The accountant explained before continuing. “The problem is, the building they live in, it’s been torn down to make way for a new bank of steel gibets, but they’re still registered there and I can’t find any mention of either of them in any other building.”  
“And I supposedly authorised it?” Korse pressed.  
“Well... yes, sir,” the accountant replied. “I can show you the authorisation if you wish?”  
“I should very much like to see that,” Korse raised an eyebrow, reaching out his arm as the man handed him the paperwork.

It didn’t take very long for Korse to realise what had happened. Merely reading the name of the child in the documentation was enough. Korse’s face morphed into a deep, angry scowl, triggering a nervous response from the man standing before him.

“You know the child?” He finally asked as Korse’s eyes almost seemed to focus on an area several feet behind him, giving him the impression that the exterminator was no longer even aware of his presence.

Slowly the words seemed to sink in and Korse’s attention was drawn back into the room. Now focusing his eyes on the accountant, he took a deep breath and continued.

“This document is fraudulent.” Pressing a button on his desk, the door to the office opened behind the man. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I will deal with it immediately.”

The accountant’s eyes widened in surprise; who would fraudulently assign a guardian to a child? It didn’t make any sense.

“Fraudulent, sir? But...”  
“Thank you. I will deal with it. You may go,” Korse interrupted, his tone clipped and the anger running beneath it beginning to fill the room.

The accountant chewed on his lip momentarily; whoever had done this had chosen the wrong person to mess with, certainly, but he was still astonished that someone would even bother.

“Sir, I don’t understand...”  
“You don’t need to,” Korse growled. “You have done your job, now I will do mine. Get out!”  
“Sir,” he replied enthusiastically nodding his head. 

It seemed that Korse was not about to explain and he knew better than to keep pushing the matter.

“Thank you, sir,” he added as he turned sharply on his heels and headed for the door.

As soon as the door closed behind the accountant, Korse raised the phone’s handset and dialled quickly. Within seconds, the call was answered.

“Send three draculoids to the penthouse suite of City Tower and arrest Frankie Iero. Bring him to me. Say nothing of who ordered his arrest to anyone... and I mean anyone.”

Replacing the handset, Korse tapped his fingers together whilst considering all the available information and possibilities open to him. He had had Petra killed for wasting his time with what seemed to be incorrect information about Gerard’s lack of loyalty to BLI. Despite this, his suspicions had been aroused and he had arranged for Gerard to be secretly dosed with BLI’s patented emotion removing drug, Kanslokal. Having entrusted this task to new P.A., Jakob, and then for it subsequently to be discovered, Korse had had him killed to avoid potentially giving away his involvement. Jakob’s body was yet to be found, but the matter had been taken care of already. Aware of the boy’s interest in electronics, but not of the extent of his abilities, Korse wondered whether the boy had had any involvement in the downfall of either of the Way brothers’ P.A.s. If anyone knew about the extent of the Iero boy’s ability with computers, it would be Edward. He had done extensive background checks on all of the Ways’ friends. He would almost certainly need to involve Edward in his questioning of the boy. 

Fraud was serious of course, but he was much more concerned about what the boy knew, what he had discovered and how he would deal with him. As a friend of the Ways, the matter was potentially sensitive, but also perhaps another way to test Gerard’s loyalty? If there was even the slightest suspicion that Iero knew more than the most innocent of details then he was likely to find himself the latest victim of a terrible accident.

Korse smiled to himself; he hadn’t risen through the ranks by neglecting to take care of his own interests. An eight-year-old boy, however well-connected, was not about to change that.

*

The next time Gerard woke, he found himself lying on an old worn mattress with a folded blanket for a pillow. For the first time since he found himself in the Zones, his head felt reasonably clear, even if he still felt queasy. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he inhaled and exhaled deeply for a few moments as he gathered his senses. Looking around the room, he could see it had once been a store room of some sort. Boxes that had once been piled up on top of each other had collapsed in on themselves, partly from age and neglect, partly from insect activity and partly from the sheer weight of the objects contained within breaking through the failing cardboard. Many of the items had spilled across the floor, breaking in the process and the remnants lay scattered around, covered in thick layers of dust, sand and grime. 

Casting a curious eye over the broken objects, Gerard was struggling to work out what sort of establishment it would once have been. The items were many and varied, from electronics to pottery to toys and clothes. All of the items appeared worn to different degrees, and it seemed that not all of the damage had occurred from tumbling to the floor. The only two possibilities he could think of was either a goodwill store or a pawn brokers. It was worth remembering - he had no idea where he was being held, but if he did have a chance to get a message out to anyone, having some clues to pass on could make all the difference.

The room was too small to be a main store room, either that or the establishment itself was tiny. If he had to guess, it would be some sort of overspill room for when the main room was full. That, or perhaps a place to store items that required repairs. He lost interest in trying to figure it out. It was irrelevant anyway, the only thing he really needed to know was how to get out. Pushing himself to his feet, unsteadily at first, Gerard edged his way slowly around the room. It was dark, illuminated by a single bulb that emitted very little light, but there was enough to find the door. He didn’t hold out much hope and turning the handle with no response revealed that he was right. Locked in, but at least not strapped to the gurney anymore, Gerard tried to clear his still fuzzy mind and think of ways to escape. One thing he hadn’t considered was that trying the handle would attract attention. Taking a few paces back as he heard footsteps approaching, he readied himself to attack whoever came through the door. If he were lucky, it would be the curly-haired boy he had spoken to earlier. He had been taller and broader than Gerard, but all of Gerard’s ballet training had made him quick and strong - if they were expecting a weakling, they were going to be surprised.

Holding his breath as heard the bolt being shunted across, Gerard launched himself forward as the door opened. Running into the waiting arms of Leech, Gerard struggled furiously but to no avail. The man may have been a phlebotomist, but he was army trained and knew how to restrain a prisoner. Finally shoving Gerard back into the room, and again as the boy reset his balance and darted forward once more, Leech appeared irritated.

“Calm down!” He ordered as Gerard glared angrily at him, the boy’s chest heaving as he tried to steady his breathing.  
“Calm down?” Gerard gasped, remaining poised to run once more. “You drug me, abduct me, take me...”  
“No we didn’t,” Leech cut in with an almost tired sigh.

Gerard stopped mid-sentence. Straightening up, and offering a puzzled frown to the man standing between him and the now closed door. There was something about the man’s expression and the way he spoke that suggested to Gerard that he was being truthful. But how was that possible?

“What do you mean, you didn’t?” He asked carefully. “I didn’t choose to come here!”  
“And we didn’t choose to have you here, either!” Leech grumbled. “We’re doing an old army buddy a favour.”  
“What favour?” Gerard asked nervously.  
“Getting you off Kanslokal, that’s all.” Leech replied with a frown. “As soon as you’re clean, back to Bat City you go and it can’t come soon enough as far as I’m concerned.”

Gerard grew ever more confused; he didn’t want to be there and it seemed the feeling was mutual. The main point of confusion was the issue of the Kanslokal.

“I’m not taking Kanslokal,” he replied with a creased brow. He remembered Petra trying to make him take it before they were told she had been reassigned, but no one had tried to make him take it since. “I’m only thirteen.”  
“Yeah, well, that’s where you’re wrong.” Leech insisted. “Korse had had some guy called Jakob slipping it to you in your coffee.”

Gerard took a deep breath and pulled back slightly; how did this man know about Jakob? And Korse wouldn’t do that. Korse was his uncle, a respected senior exterminator, his guardian.

“No,” Gerard shook his head, incredulous at the accusation. “No, he wouldn’t do that!”  
“Who? Korse or Jakob? because I’m telling you, your system’s loaded with it. Why do you think you’ve been throwing up for the past five days?”  
“F-five days?” 

Gerard stammered at the news, moving backwards until the backs of his legs brushed against a chair. Flopping down in the dusty, lopsided and somewhat rickety plastic chair, Gerard stared up, confused and scared.

“I... I haven’t been here five days,” he paled as he said the words.

Leech sighed at the sight of him and reached down to the side of the mattress to retrieve the old, paint-splashed bucket.

“Here,” he said with quiet sympathy as he passed the bucket to Gerard.

Taking it without a response, Gerard merely continued to stare up.

“I don’t...” he closed his eyes as his vision blurred and his head swam with confusing thoughts. Disorientated, he gripped the edge of the seat for fear he might fall off. “I...”

Looking down at the bucket seemed to trigger memories he didn’t even realise he had and he fought the urge to vomit once more.

“Do you want some water?”

Suddenly the memory of the brackish water that Jet had given him flooded his mind once more and without hesitation he began to retch, bringing up very little but a burning mixture of water and acidic bile.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Leech’s voice softened and tears of pain and distress sprung to Gerard’s eyes as he finally gasped and looked up from the bucket.

As he glanced at Leech through blurred eyes he saw the small towel the man was handing him. Accepting it gratefully, Gerard wiped his mouth and lowered the bucket to the floor.

“Who are you?” He finally asked, his throat parched and sore.  
“Best you don’t know, really,” Leech replied. “Needless to say, when you’re clean and the drug’s out of your system, you’ll be going back to Bat City.”  
“And when I do, don’t expect any mercy!” Gerard spat, still upset and angry at his situation.  
“I never do,” Leech replied with a dry undertone. “It’s not what the Crows are known for.”  
“Who brought me here if you didn’t?” Gerard asked, still unsure what to make of the man standing in front of him.  
“A friend,” Leech shrugged.  
“Not a friend of mine!” 

Leech nodded with a half smirk on his face.

“Only a really good friend would risk everything to get you clean. He may even have saved your life. He certainly saved your sanity.”  
“I don’t believe you,” Gerard growled, narrowing his eyes.

Leech merely shrugged; his expression one of indifference.

“I don’t care,” Leech tipped his head before shaking it, almost sadly. “You asked me, I told you. Whether or not you believe me makes no difference to me whatsoever. Like I said, we’re doing a job for a friend. Once you’re clean, you’re going back and we’ll be gone. Then everyone’s happy.”  
“I won’t be happy until I...”

Leech stepped forward suddenly, grabbing Gerard from the chair and throwing him almost immediately back onto the mattress. Rolling over as he landed, it was a moment or two before Gerard righted himself, by which time Leech was already by the door.

“Get some sleep,” he ordered. “The more you rest, the faster it’ll be out your system and the sooner you’ll be gone!”

Hitting the light switch and plunging the room into absolute darkness, Leech closed the door behind him, bolting it firmly before walking away. 

Still seated on the mattress, Gerard pulled his knees closer to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. The man’s words echoed in his mind long after he had left. The accusations were outrageous, but if all they planned to do was send him back, why even make them? Resting his forehead on his knees, Gerard knew he couldn’t remember being there for five days, but neither did he remember being at home recently either. Was it the effect of something they had given him or was it possible...? He couldn’t be telling the truth, could he? Kanslokal? Could Korse really be...? No. Gerard squeezed his eyes shut briefly before lowering himself back down onto the mattress. Sleep. He felt weak, dazed and confused. Sleep would surely help. Besides there was little else he could do. Things would be clearer after some rest, he hoped.


	17. Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey’s anxiety level goes through the roof and is Gerard starting to recover?

Mikey looked up, his eyes at first unfocused. Frankie placed a mug of coffee on the table in front of the older boy, holding another with his hands wrapped around it as if for warmth.

“You okay?” He asked as Mikey said nothing but merely stared.  
“What?” He answered, shaking his head as if noticing his friend for the first time.

Frankie offered a warm smile, his eyes crinkling with delight, eliciting a broad smile in return. There was something about his smile that almost forced people to reply in kind. Infectious and joyful, Frankie’s smile could touch even the coldest of hearts.

“You are alive!” He cried as if both surprised and relieved. “I don’t need to ask you what you were thinking about, I guess.”  
“You’d be wrong,” Mikey replied, leaning forward to pick up the mug, raising it gratefully to his lips.  
“Your student?” Frankie cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.

Mikey turned a suspicious glance towards the younger boy. There were only two things on Mikey’s mind at the moment and if it wasn’t Gerard it was almost certainly his student. It hadn’t taken a genius to work it out, but Mikey was grateful that he had cared enough to remember.

“How is she?” Frankie continued, perching on the arm of the couch, finding himself at roughly eye-level with his friend.  
“Broke her arm,” Mikey shook his head worriedly.  
“Was that ever in doubt?” Frankie queried, surprised by the reply. “I thought you said the bone came through the skin?”

Mikey scratched his neck absently; he had forgotten what he had told the younger boy. He had been quite upset the previous night when, after the incident, she had been rushed to the hospital and he had been driven home. Despite his distress and being immediately removed from the dojo, he had managed to insist that she be taken to the finest hospital in Battery City, rather than the Orphanage Clinic - he dreaded to think how she would fare with such a bad break without an operation by a skilled surgeon. Insisting that all expenses would be covered by the Way account, he ordered that only the best surgeon and facilities would be acceptable. Although it had been undeniably her own fault, Mikey felt guilty for not being able to prevent it.

“Sorry, I forgot what I’d said,” Mikey replied leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and staring aimlessly into the dark brown liquid in his hands. “I should have stopped her.”

There was a short pause as Mikey continued to stare at the mug, eventually turning expectant eyes towards Frankie.

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t be expecting me to contradict you,” Frankie replied flatly, sliding off the arm of the couch, flopping heavily next to Mikey, somehow managing not to spill even a single drop of his coffee.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mikey frowned, slightly aggrieved to have been called out on his need for confirmation.  
“You told me already,” Frankie’s expression morphed to one of concern and seriousness. “She wanted to try a new move that she saw you doing, you told her she hadn’t been trained and it was too dangerous. Then she just did it anyway,” Frankie shrugged. “And crack!” He added with a smirk, infusing sound effects to the final word.

Mikey turned his head and frowned deeply at his friend, almost surprised by his insensitivity.

“It’s not funny!” He insisted.

Frankie turned an expression of disbelief towards his friend and broke into a grin.

“Yes it is!” He chuckled, leaning back in the couch raising the mug to his lips while still giggling as he tried to drink.  
“What’s funny about being hurt?” Mikey snapped. “I feel really bad about this! I’m worried about her.”  
“No you’re not,” Frankie looked up, pointing a finger at the older boy. “You’re worried the Sensei’s gonna be mad at you.”  
“That too,” Mikey’s shoulders slumped forward. “What if I can’t teach anymore? What if he throws me out?”  
“Not gonna happen,” Frankie shook his head with absolute certainty.  
“How do you know?” Mikey mumbled, unconvinced.   
“Seriously?” Frankie raised his eyebrows at what he considered a ridiculous suggestion. “Can you really see anyone throwing a Way out of anywhere? Never gonna happen.”  
“Oh, so the only reason I’d get to stay is because of who I am?” Mikey replied indignantly. “I told her not to do it!”

Frankie took another mouthful of coffee before looking up at Mikey with an amused smirk on his face.

“What?” Mikey pressed, receiving no other response.  
“See, I told you it wasn’t your fault.”

Mikey narrowed his eyes as he considered the boy’s words. By arguing his case against needing to use his position in the city to prevent himself being dismissed, he had effectively confirmed Frankie’s original point.

“Whatever,” he grumbled sulkily. “It could happen,” he added.  
“Nah,” Frankie shook his head again. “She might get thrown out, but not you.”

Mikey thought about this latest statement; he didn’t want either of them to be dismissed.

“She’s my best student,” he mused. “I’ll speak to the Sensei.”  
“There you go,” Frankie beamed a smile. “Problem solved. How was she this morning?”  
“Mostly out of it,” Mikey shrugged. “She’s still recovering from the operation but she’s going to... hang on! How did you know I went to see her?”  
“Told you, Mikeyway,” Frankie placed the mug on the table and grinned as he tapped Mikey’s forehead. “I’m in your head!”

Mikey batted Frankie’s hand away irritably, frowning at the confident and annoying smirk beamed at him.

“Someone’s coming,” Frankie frowned as he looked beyond Mikey towards the elevator. “Are you expecting anyone?”  
“No,” Mikey turned; a puzzled expression forming on his face, the previous conversation now forgotten. “No one’s announced themselves either.”  
“Could it be Gee?” Frankie gasped hopefully.

Mikey turned a happy smile towards his friend, which almost immediately crumbled to confusion.

“Wouldn’t we have been told if he was coming back?” 

Both boys stood, Mikey returning his mug to the table as he turned to face to the elevator. It was only a matter of seconds before it glided to a halt and the doors slid open. They had both grown accustomed to a stepped-up security regime, including a draculoid as a seemingly permanent fixture inside the elevator, but on the doors opening they could see four of them. Three stepped out and without a word walked swiftly over to the boys. 

“What’s going on?” Mikey asked, glancing past them, confused that they were not accompanied.

Ignoring Mikey’s question, the lead draculoid pulled a set of restraints from a pouch on his belt. Mikey’s eyes widened as he pulled Frankie‘s arm, the pair backing away, confused and frightened.

“What’s going on!” Mikey repeated, louder this time, alarmed as the trio closed in on them.  
“Frankie Iero,” the lead man began. “I have orders to arrest you. Do not resist.”  
“What!” Frankie gasped as Mikey pushed the younger boy protectively behind him.  
“On whose orders?” Mikey demanded, standing firm. “What for? What’s he supposed to have done?”  
“My orders are to arrest him,” the draculoid replied without further explanation. 

Almost pushing Mikey out of the way, the draculoid reached behind him and grabbed Frankie’s arm roughly, pulling him forward.

“Who ordered this?” Mikey demanded, now following the draculoid as he dragged the panic-stricken and struggling boy back toward the elevator.  
“Mikey!” Frankie cried, terrified as he was pushed against the back of the couch and his hands locked behind him.   
“Let him go!” Mikey pulled desperately on the draculoid’s arm with one hand and trying to pull Frankie out of the man’s grip with the other.

The draculoid gripped Mikey’s wrist tightly, squeezing until he was forced to let go and immediately pushed him backwards, not roughly enough to make him fall but enough to show he wasn’t intimidated by the Way brother.

“Who ordered this?” Mikey demanded again, this time conjuring his most commanding tone. “Where are you taking him?”  
“Have a better day,” the man replied, refusing to answer any of his questions. 

Turning Frankie quickly and pushing him towards the elevator, the quartet were almost at the doors when Frankie managed to twist in the man’s grip enough to face his friend once more.

“Mikey!” He called; the uncertainty of his fate terrifying him. “Do something! Please!”

Mikey, only able to stare helplessly back, nodded quickly as he gathered his wits.

“I’ll call Korse. I’ll find out what’s happening. I’ll fix this, Frankie, I promise!”

There was no more time as the terrified boy was forced into the elevator and the doors closed. Momentarily stunned, Mikey turned sharply and headed for the phone. Someone would be in big trouble for this! Now, if ever there was a time to use his influence, this was it.

*

Gerard looked up as the bolt was pushed back on the door to his room. Leaping to his feet, he hid quickly behind the door as it opened, holding his breath in an attempt to make absolutely no sound. 

“He’s gone!” Jet cried in alarm as he scanned the room.

Gerard paused; was he talking to someone or just to himself? His question was answered almost immediately as another man spoke.

“All right, Gerard,” Flex almost laughed. “Come out from behind the door.”

Gerard heard the poorly concealed chuckle and fumed; how dare they laugh at him?

“Out!” Flex ordered. “We have something for you to eat.”

Gerard exhaled; he was hungry and thirsty. He could only hope the food was better than the water but somehow he doubted it. Reluctantly, he moved slowly from his hiding place, glaring at Flex as he moved into the centre of the room. His posture and body language suggested that he may attack or try to run at any moment and Flex automatically readied himself likewise. 

“Gerard, where do you plan to go?” Flex asked with a slight shake of his head.

Gerard glared at Flex, almost ignoring Jet entirely, his eyes narrowed and his mouth fixed in a position that almost suggested a snarl.

“What do you mean?” He snapped, maintaining a steely glare.  
“Blink. This is not a contest,” Flex replied with a sigh; he almost sounded bored, which only served to infuriate Gerard more.  
“I said what do you mean?” Gerard repeated with increasing anger.  
“Say you escape? Where do you plan to go?”

Gerard took a deep breath and in that moment suddenly appeared small and afraid. So much so that Flex’s expression and even his stance softened slightly. Gerard lowered his eyes; he didn’t even remember his way around Battery City, it had been so long since he had actually walked anywhere. The Zones, however, were a complete mystery to him. He didn’t even know how far out he was or which way to head. Added to that, of course, were the twin terrors of the desert and the Zonerats - some of them rebels who would take great pleasure in hurting or even killing him, and some with no particular political cause but willing to kill a stranger just for the sheer amusement value.

“There’s nowhere I can go,” he sighed, looking away. “So, yeah, you’re right, you don’t need that lock on the door, do you?”  
“All the same, we like to know where we can find you.” Flex smiled, offering a metal plate and cup to Gerard.

Gerard stepped forward, hesitantly at first then extended his arms from as far back as he could stand but still reach the food. Flex frowned at the gesture.

“I’m not going to hurt you, you know?” He asked concerned that Gerard need not be afraid.  
“I know,” Gerard nodded. “I’m confused about what’s been happening to me, but I do believe you don’t intend to hurt me.”  
“Then why keep so much distance?”  
“I...” Gerard looked down. “I wanted to show you that I’m not trying to fight you or escape or anything.”  
“Thank you,” Flex replied in a surprised but kind voice. “You’re doing well, Gerard. We’re hopeful that you’ll be able to eat now. You’ve...”  
“I know,” he nodded in reply. “I’ve spent the last five days throwing up. The other guy told me.”  
“You don’t remember?” Flex tilted his head.  
“No,” he shook his head. “I didn’t even know I’d been here for five days.”  
“Seven days,” Jet corrected drawing a pained glance from Gerard.  
“Today’s the first day I remember,” he whispered, lowering his eyes.  
“That’s good, Gerard, that means you’re getting better,” Flex smiled.  
“Was I really being given Kanslokal?” He asked, his voice wavering with an audible shake.  
“Yeah, you were,” Flex sighed, his face taking on an angry expression at the idea that he could have been treated so badly. “In fact, so much so, it could have killed you.”  
“Who brought me here?” Gerard asked. “I have to thank them, then.”

Flex’s lips curled in a half smile, half smirk. It could have been a genuine request but he was not about to risk Edward’s life if it were a trick. Gerard had been angry and defiant only moments before; it was too sudden a change to be entirely convincing. 

“Eat your food while it’s still got a flavour of sorts.”  
“Can...” Jet looked up. “Can I stay with him for a bit? If...” he turned to face Gerard. “If you don’t mind?”

Gerard’s expression morphed into one of incredulity. He couldn’t understand why these rebels where being so kind to him and so considerate of his feelings. It didn’t make any sense. 

“Yeah... I... I’d like that.”

Flex stared at Gerard for a moment, narrowing his eyes with suspicion. He weighed up the options, considering Gerard’s health and strength for the likelihood that he could overpower Jet and use him to make them let him go. It was good that Jet would spend some time with someone his own age, but he couldn’t risk it. It was then that Gerard suggested something truly surprising.

“I understand you doubt me and... you could tie my hands if that would help. I really would like some company.”

Flex smiled thinly. It was moments like this that he was reminded that Gerard, far from being the face of BLI and a symbol of everything he hated, was just a boy. A thirteen year old boy who, in all probability, was very scared and doing his best to hide it. Flex nodded, it seemed like a good compromise. 

*

It was over an hour before Korse returned Mikey’s call and by then he was exhausted from pacing and had bitten down all of his nails, two of them almost to the point of bleeding. When the phone finally rang, Mikey pounced on it. Snatching up the receiver, his voice was higher in pitch and the words almost garbled. 

“Hello? Exterminator Korse, is that you?”  
“Mikey?” Korse began slowly. “I’ve been interrogating a prisoner and I’ve just received your message. What’s happened? Have you heard from Gerard?”  
“No,” Mikey’s voice almost cracked under the weight of his anxiety. “Frankie’s been arrested. I don’t know why or where he’s been taken.”  
“Arrested” Korse seemed to ponder over the word. “Who by?”  
“It... it wasn’t you?” Mikey stammered.   
“Why would I arrest your friend? Especially as he’s helping you cope with Gerard’s abduction.”

Mikey pushed his hand through his hair at the denial. If not Korse, who would be so self-assured to invade the Way brothers’ penthouse and arrest their friend? Who even knew he was there? Another Exterminator? Chief Exterminator Vitkovski? It all seemed so unlikely. 

“You... you mean you don’t know where he is?” Mikey replied, both bewildered and scared.   
“I don’t,” Korse replied firmly. “But I will find out. Don’t allow this to distress you another second.”  
“Please,” Mikey took in a long ragged breath. “Please find him!” He added, not afraid to show his deep concern. “I’m really worried.“  
“I’ll call back within an hour with, hopefully, good news.”  
“Thank you,” 

Mikey replaced the handset on the charging unit, his shoulders sagging deeply as he realised that he felt no additional comfort from having made the call. 

*

In his office, Korse replaced the handset on the phone cradle and looked up. A few feet from the desk, seated in a chair, Frankie stared, wide-eyed and alarmed. His wrists and ankles strapped firmly to the chair preventing any movement and an electrical device fixed around his neck that rendered his vocal cords temporarily useless and ensured he was unable to cry for help while Mikey was on the phone. 

“So, Frankie,” Korse chuckled unpleasantly, moving forward to remove the silencing device from Frankie’s neck. “Now that we’re not going to be disturbed, let us discuss your involvement in Gerard’s disappearance and perhaps one or two other small details. You have less than an hour to convince me of your innocence, but be aware you start from a position of an assumption of guilt, complicity, treachery and treason.”


	18. The Aftermath is actually kinda the point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frankie is terrified and Gerard learns a few unpleasant truths

“I... I don’t know why Gee left,” Frankie stammered as he stared up at the cold eyes of the exterminator. “We told you, he... he got really angry and...”  
“Enough!” Korse growled with a sneer following close behind on his lips. “I can see I’m not going to get anything out of you without... persuasion,” one end of his mouth curled up at the word.  
“N-no, please,” Frankie shook his head. “I don’t know anything. I don’t know what you think I know but...”  
“Let me show you something,” Korse cut in. “I had this made especially for you. It’s amazing how quickly our tech team can build even the most complex of devices. I assure you, you’ll talk.”

Frankie stared up, unable or unwilling to speak and too afraid to press the matter. Behind him the door to Korse’s office opened and he heard something on wheels trundling along the floor. It sounded heavy and Frankie’s mind was in turmoil imagining what was about to happen to him. As the ‘device’ was wheeled into view, he began slowly to hyperventilate. Before him stood a metal cabinet, roughly five feet high and three feet square at the base. One side of the cabinet was clearly a door with what seemed a sturdy lock which clipped over a latch that pulled the lock tight, sealing it shut. The wheels retracted into the side of the cabinet leaving it settled on the floor. Unlatching the lock and opening the door, Korse offered Frankie a cruel smile.

“I think you’ll find this quite cosy until my interrogator arrives.”

Now struggling to breathe, Frankie felt lightheaded and dizzy at the thought of being locked in the cabinet. Memories of his guardian leaving him for entire days locked in a dark closet without food or water followed by a beating on his release had scarred him deeply and the fear he had felt on all of those occasions was now multiplied a hundred-fold. Partly because he believed he had left it behind with his guardian’s death and partly because Korse had no reason to keep him alive - at least his guardian needed to let him survive if he still wanted to be paid. Worse still, Korse knew that this was his greatest fear, and probably always would be - if he had a future, of course.

“N-no, please!” Frankie stammered. “I’ll do anything, but, please. Please!”

Frankie continued to beg at the man aiming the silent smirk at him.

“Oh, but this is different,” Korse chuckled. “The panels on this cabinet are hydraulic and overlap, do you know what that means?”

Frankie gasped in horror; his skills in engineering, despite his young age, meant that he knew all too well what Korse meant. If it weren’t for the straps holding him to the chair he would be physically shaking. His vision blurred without warning and the room seemed to spin as he grew ever more terrified. Korse laughed at the sight of Frankie’s pallor and growing panic attack.

“You do!” he laughed, before continuing in a casual, almost conversational tone and delighting in the boy’s terror. “Yes, the panels slide against each other allowing the cabinet to decrease in size. Each hour, the cabinet will shrink by two inches in height and one inch in width. I wonder if there’s a limit to the shrinkage? Or will it crush you? Well, when you’re ready to talk, and I mean the truth, just shout. Oh, and bear in mind that there won’t always be someone in this room to hear you.”

As Korse spoke, the two men who wheeled I the cabinet had removed the straps from Frankie’s wrists and ankles, but his terror had robbed him of all strength. Seizing his left wrist, Korse pulled him from the chair and threw him bodily into the metal cabinet, slamming the door shut and fastening the lock loudly. As the darkness closed around him, Frankie sank slowly to the floor, he hugged his knees as his chest heaved, trying desperately to drag air into his lungs.

“I suggest you don’t leave it too long, Frankie,” Korse called in to the petrified boy. “I forgot to mention, it’s also airtight!”

*

Gerard sighed as he looked down at the thin mattress beneath him. He didn’t want to just flop down on it, it didn’t seem thick enough or supportive enough to break his fall. With his hands now tied behind his back, he had no way of breaking his fall if he tried to lower himself down.

“I didn’t think this through, did I?” He finally conceded, turning his head to find Jet staring at him, also considering his predicament.  
“I could help you, if you like?” Jet shrugged with a faint smile. “I’m going to have to feed you anyway.”

Gerard’s shoulders sagged and he found himself looking down and shaking his head.

“I really didn’t think this through.”  
“Do you want me to tie your hands at the front?” Jet asked quietly.

Gerard turned an expression of absolute disbelief toward Jet; was the boy really that naive?

“I don’t think your friends’ll be too happy about the idea of you untying me while they’re not here,” he offered a wry smile.  
“They’ll be fine,” Jet shrugged, briefly throwing his arms out to the side to indicate his indifference.

Gerard stared at the boy, confused not only by Jet’s response, but by the one he himself was about to give.

“Best not,” he replied. “I don’t want you getting into any trouble. They might see it as me making a bid to escape.”  
“And wouldn’t you?” Jet queried. “If you had the chance.”  
“I’m not convinced I have much to go back to,” Gerard looked away, miserably. “I want to see my brother and my best friend. But everything else?”

Gerard exhaled deeply; his drug fuelled loyalty to BLI now fading rapidly.

“I wasn’t going to untie you,” Jet admitted, eying Gerard with concern for his response. “I just wanted to see what you’d say.”

At first, Gerard turned a puzzled glance towards Jet. The curly haired boy’s face seemed to be set in a questioning expression, as if he were waiting for some sort of make or break response. Gerard lowered and shook his head lightly as he considered his response.

  
It had taken him a week to get mostly free of the drugs Jakob had given him and he was finally thinking relatively clearly and feeling more like himself. But, Jet would have no reason to believe him and certainly no reason to trust him. Just no longer having the Kanslokal in his system and having negotiated withdrawal meant nothing to the rebels. They would find it hard to believe that at the best of times he would have no intention of hurting them, let alone kill them.

The ludicrousness of the situation occurred to him. He had just told Jet that returning to Battery City wasn’t what he wanted any more - only Mikey and Frankie would cause his return, but he toyed with the idea that they might prefer to join him. That seemed so unlikely. Frankie, maybe, his memories in Battery City were mostly terrible, but Mikey? He had been indoctrinated by Korse and not so long ago had even been keen to execute rebels. Unaware of Mikey’s recent revelations, it seemed to him that his only real option was to return, but equally, the thought terrified him.

Finally his shoulders hitched as he suddenly found amusement in the situation. Still looking down, he allowed a short amused huff to leave his lips before breaking into peals of laughter, drawing a surprised response from Jet in return.

“What’s funny?” He frowned; assuming Gerard was mocking him.  
“It’s all good,” Gerard gasped out as he shook his head and began to reign in his laughter. Finally able to speak once more, he turned a lopsided grin at his companion. “It’s just, I’d have hated to think you were stupid. I kinda like you.”

Jet raised his eyebrows at the unexpected words as Gerard continued.

“Can you help me down, please?” He asked kindly. “We can talk,” he tipped his head. “If you like?”  
“What about?” Jet asked suspiciously.  
“Anything you want,” Gerard shrugged awkwardly. “I’m not trying to trick you, Jet. I just want to talk to you.”

Jet nodded, a smile creeping across his face. Helping Gerard down onto the mattress was easy for him; not only was Jet strong for his age but Gerard had lost weight in the time he had been there, partly from not being able to eat at all and then from there not being much available to eat.

“You want to eat first?” Jet asked kindly, noticing Gerard eyeing the metal plate.

A thought suddenly occurred to him and Gerard looked up and stared with a furrowed brow at Jet.

“What?” Jet asked. “It’s not...”  
“I know,” Gerard cut in quickly. “I know it’s okay, I know that now. Have you eaten?”  
“Today?” Jet asked innocently. “It’s not my day.”  
“Excuse me?” Gerard’s eyes widened. “When do you eat?”  
“Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays,” he replied innocently.  
“They don’t let you eat every day?” Gerard gasped, astonished at the idea.  
“Oh!” Jet laughed, beaming a broad and cheerful smile towards Gerard. “I eat more than they do. They insist, because I’m still growing. I’d be long dead if it weren’t for them. They saved my life.”  
“But... but they... they’ve fed me every day,” Gerard merely stared, struggling to truly take in the meaning. “But... how are... if you’re that short on food, how are they able to feed me?”

Jet looked down briefly, worried about how Gerard would take the news.

“We... we’ve all given up a meal for you.”  
“What?”

Gerard sounded suddenly small and even ashamed. He didn’t remember most of what he had said to the rebels but he did recall his words in the last few days of the drugs retaining their hold over him, and he knew he hadn’t been kind.

“We had to,” Jet shrugged. “I know it doesn’t seem like it to you, but you’re a patient, not a hostage.”

Gerard swallowed hard and frowned deeply, only now seeing the kindness and sacrifices this band of rebels had made - literally risking their lives to help him.

“I threatened you,” Gerard whispered. “All of you, but you helped me despite everything.”  
“Yeah,” Jet nodded. “You were in a really bad way when you got here.”  
“You... you do know who I am, don’t you?” Gerard asked carefully.  
“Yeah, of course,” Jet replied, frowning at what he viewed as a strange question.  
“And you still helped me?” Gerard frowned deeply. “I don’t know whether or not to say this, but you realise that I don’t actually have any real power in Battery City? I mean, I can’t stop what BLI do. I can’t stop the exterminators or the draculoid patrols or anything. Damn! I can’t even get more food out here!”  
“We know,” Jet nodded with a kind smile. “He told us that you aren’t the way BLI sell you.”  
“Who’s ‘he’?” Gerard asked, furrowing his brows, still trying to work out who had arranged all this.  
“I can’t tell you that, sorry,” Jet shrugged apologetically but Gerard, half expecting the response was already moving on to his next question.

“Okay, but... how... how do they...? Do I want to...? No, how do I appear?”  
“Like... like you don’t care. Like... well, the face of BLI.”

Gerard lowered his head and sighed deeply. Not only had he never considered how they were using his image but he had no idea how desperate life was in the Zones. He shook his head, torn in his reaction - falling somewhere between sadness and anger.

“Well...” Jet began again on seeing Gerard’s response. “It’s not really you is it? It’s just a picture of you with a meaningless or even harsh slogan.”  
“Like what?” Gerard asked quietly.  
“You don’t know?” Jet asked, astonished at his lack of involvement.

Gerard shook his head, slowly; he looked pale and drawn. Despite not being happy at BLI, it had never occurred to him to check what he appeared to endorse.

“Anything from ‘The Aftermath is Secondary’ to ‘I won’t stop until all rebels are dead’.”

If it were possible, Gerard paled further.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “When I get back, I’ll do everything I can to help. I’ll find a way, I promise. I’ll get food out to the Zones, water, medication, whatever is needed. If BLI look after people the way they should... the way we’re led to believe... You wouldn’t need to rebel.”  
“Don’t put yourself at risk,” Jet warned. “Not everyone will see the benefits in what you want to do and...” Jet lowered his eyes. “They have much more power.”

The words caused Gerard’s heart to seem to leap into his throat, choking off the words he wanted to say. Instead, his eyes misted and a small surprised cry escaped his lips as Jet moved forward to offer a gentle hug.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be going home soon.”


	19. Decision Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard makes a decision and Edward faces one

Aside from offering personal protection to the Way brothers, Edward also ran his own security company. He had many staff working for him, including trusted department managers who were as hands on with the business as he was. He much preferred it that way. The moment distance from the everyday workings was allowed to creep in to a security company, was the moment corruption began. This method, whilst not foolproof, kept a close watch on the dealings of all employees. The bulk of the day to day running of each department fell to each manager, but a monthly meeting kept Edward up to date, along with occasional ad hoc meetings when requested. Edward checked his watch; this meeting was in danger of overrunning. It was good in one respect and bad in another. The company had been especially busy of late, handling protection details for wealthy citizens. In addition to guarding the Ways, BLI also used Edward’s company for guarding consignments of medication, money transferred from reserves to banks or vice versa and even prisoner transfers.

Reports and potential problems being discussed around the table seemed to be taking an interminably long time and as he glanced at his watch, Edward noticed that it was already approaching two o’clock and there were still two managers left to provide their reports.

Edward wanted to check in with Frankie and Mikey to see how they were holding up. They were both intelligent and brave, he had already seen that in both of them. Equally, the pair were old for their years, but he still had to bear in mind that as mature as they were, they were still aged ten and eight and as such, this was a frightening situation for them.

As he looked towards his Protection Manager, Edward turned his head sharply at a loud rap on the door.

“Come in,” he shouted, holding up a hand to ask his manager to wait before giving his report.

One of the admin staff opened the door and hurried in. Edward noted the pale expression and the shake in his hand as he carried the note towards him.

“Lee?” Edward frowned. “Are you okay?”  
“Mr Hamlin, sir,” he began in a fractured tone. “Exterminator Korse offers his apologies for the interruption but requests that you join him.”

Edward frowned and taking the note, read the contents quickly. Looking up again, he addressed his administrator.

“He wants me to join him in his office?” Edward asked, still confused as to Lee’s demeanour.  
“No,” Korse’s voice boomed from the doorway, “I want you to come with me.”

Edward looked up, surprised to see that the exterminator had made a personal visit; it was highly unusual and Edward grew concerned. Had he found out about his involvement with Gerard’s disappearance? Perhaps that he knew Edward suspected that he had been the one to abduct Gerard? Whatever it was, he had to maintain his composure.

“What is it?” Edward closed his laptop and rose to his feet. “Have you found Gerard? Jakob?”  
“No, but I believe you can help me get closer to some answers.”  
“Me?” Edward frowned deeply. “In what way?” He asked trying to sound eager to help.  
“Come with me, I’ll explain on the way.”

Korse signalled that Edward should follow him as he turned and left the office.

“Reg, Eva, we’ll pick this up tomorrow. Is that okay? Any major issues before then, talk to James.

Both managers nodded and Reg closed his file; it wasn’t urgent, just a wealthy museum owner looking for a bodyguard. It could wait a day.

*

He wasn’t sure they would grant him his request in case he were to either use the pencil as a weapon or the paper to leave a coded message on who had him, but Gerard was surprised when on waking the next morning, his hands were again untied and a small pencil and five sheets of paper lay by his mattress, alongside a cup of water and an open can of what could best be described as ‘something’. Sticking out through the still attached lid was a teaspoon.

Gerard sighed as he stared at the can. It was such a meagre offering by his standards, but here, in this camp, someone was going without a meal so that he could eat. He knew from what Jet had said that not only did they not eat three times a day, but they were lucky to eat three times a week. He felt a wash of guilt sweep over him; if they didn’t eat regularly then neither would he. Pushing himself to his feet, he picked up the can and headed to the door.

“Hey!” He cried, slapping his palm a few times on the solid wooden and metal door. “Jet!” He added, realising that his was the only name he knew.

Hearing footsteps approaching, Gerard left the can on a cabinet standing near the door and stepped back several feet until he was alongside the mattress again.

“What do you want?” A gruff voice asked through the door.

Gerard pulled his lips into a thin line. Of all the men he had met so far, this was the only one who had actually scared him.

“Please, open the door,” he began, not knowing quite what to say.  
“What do you want?” Leech sighed impatiently.  
“The food you left for me, I want to give it back to you,” Gerard replied.  
“What?” The man snorted. “Not fancy enough for you? It’s all we’ve got, so it’s that or nothing.”  
“I know,” Gerard replied quickly. “I’m not complaining! Jet told me that you were all giving up meals so that I can eat. I don’t want that. I don’t want to eat regularly if you can’t.”

There was a slight pause before Gerard heard the bolt being pushed back and the door opening slowly. Expecting to be rushed by the boy in another escape attempt, Leech was surprised to find him sitting on the mattress and staring up.

“I’m not trying to trick you. You’ve helped me get clean and all I’ve been is threatening and defiant. I want to make amends,” Gerard replied, looking down at the last few words, visibly shamed.  
“I guess it wasn’t your fault,” Leech offered a half smile. “Kanslokal is a nasty drug, especially at your age.”  
“You didn’t believe it was all down to that did you?” Gerard asked without judgement in his tone.

Leech chuckled and shook his head.

“Observant for a BLI stooge, aren’t you?”  
“I guess I deserved that,” Gerard shrugged. “It’s true, I’m the face of BLI and it’s never occurred to me to wonder what my face was endorsing. I... I’m ashamed of myself.”

Leech frowned; if he was acting, it was convincing.

“Look, you’re thirteen, probably about the same age as Jet. You can’t be held responsible for what you’ve been dragged into by BLI.”  
“No, I can be...”  
“Kid, give yourself a break,” Leech interrupted.  
“Okay, but if I go back and do nothing to help, then I am responsible. That’s why I wanted the paper,” he nodded to the small stack on the floor. “I’m going to write a list of what I need to get changed. Do you think you could help me? I only know about food, water and basic needs but I’m sure there’s so much more.”  
“Are you serious?” Leech narrowed his eyes.  
“You said you were sending me back to Battery City when I got clean. I have no reason to lie to you. I could just go back and never think of you again, but I’m in a position to make a difference and I want to use that.”

Leech nodded.

“He said you could make things happen,” he raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t believe him, but if you’re for real...”  
“I am.” This time it was Gerard’s turn to interrupt.  
“Well then,” Leech smiled. “I guess he was right then, wasn’t he?”  
“It was Edward, wasn’t it?” Gerard asked. “The friend who brought me here.”  
“You know I’m not going to answer that, right?” Leech tipped his head.  
“Well, whoever it was,” Gerard answered knowingly, “he has honourable friends and I do really want to help.”  
“Eat your breakfast,” Leech smiled.  
“No, I...” Gerard stopped as his stomach growled.  
“You need it more than I do,” Leech added, patting his belly. “Get your strength up, you’re going to need it if you want to change things.”

Gerard merely smiled and nodded in return and watched as Leech closed the door and barely even noticed as he bolted it. Picking up the pencil and paper, Gerard got to work.

*

Frankie couldn’t help it, he was crying. The cabinet had now reduced in size so much that he was unable to stand and he was huddled at the base, hugging his knees as the walls closed in and the floor space reduced in size once more. Looking at the space around him with alarm, he knew that he probably only had a couple more hours before the cabinet had shrunk so much that he would be unable to move at all. Thereafter, all it would do was crush him.

He had called out so much in the last hour that his voice was hoarse and the staleness of the air was causing him to feel lightheaded and dizzy. He had by now realised that the cabinet wasn’t airtight as Korse had threatened, but it seemed that air only managed to enter in any reasonable amount when the hydraulics moved the panels. As a result, the hot and cramped space was low in oxygen and unbearably high in carbon dioxide. He desperately tried to work out if he would pass out before he was crushed but his terrified and confused mind refused to work. Allowing his head to rest against the cabinet wall, he allowed his tears to flow freely down his cheeks, there was little else he could do.

*

“You really think Frankie knows something about Gerard’s disappearance?” Edward asked, trying hard to sound sceptical as Korse pulled into his space at BLI Headquarters.  
“I do,” he replied simply. “And I want you to get it out of him.”

Edward nodded. He knew that either he had to invent something plausible to tell Korse or he would very likely kill the boy. Additionally, Edward couldn’t help but be aware that if Korse insisted on remaining for the interrogation, there was a very real danger of him realising that he too was involved.

“Where is he?” He asked.  
“In my office.”  
“Guarded, I assume?”

Korse laughed unpleasantly.

“No, he’s locked in a hydraulic cabinet that‘s programmed to decrease in size at regular intervals.”  
Edward gasped with surprise. “He’s claustrophobic!”

Korse checked his watch and smiled slyly.

“I know,” he raised an eyebrow as he stared at Edward across the car. “Why else do you think I had it built? I’m certain you’ll find him quite ready to talk when we let him out.”

Edward swallowed, unable to find a reply. He knew Korse was ruthless but to deliberately terrify an eight-year-old boy? That was beyond anything he thought him capable of.

“Right,” he finally choked out. “I’ll interrogate him.”  
“I’ll release him, but I have other things to do. I hope you will have something for me quite quickly. After all, he’s only eight. What sort of defence can he manage against an experienced interrogator such as yourself?”  
“I’m sure he’ll tell me what I need to know.” Edward replied, trying hard to hide his disgust.  
“Good,” Korse replied, once again opening the car door. “There is a draculoid outside my office, he’s expecting you and will release him for you.”  
“Thank you.”

Edward headed briskly into the tall glass and concrete building and took the elevator to the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit. He had visited this floor many times. It always appeared clinical and efficient, but never before had it seemed barbarous. He doubted that he would ever see it the same way again.

Turning sharply into the corridor leading to Korse’s office, Edward all but ran the last few yards.

“Release the boy,” he demanded as he reached the draculoid standing outside.

Without a word and just with a short nod, the draculoid entered the office and walking slowly up to the cabinet, unlocked the door.

“Thank you,” Edward stared meaningfully at the draculoid. “I’ll take it from here.”  
“Sir,” the man nodded, leaving immediately and closing the door behind him.

Opening the door, Edward was shocked to his core. Reaching inside to pull Frankie from his tiny prison, Edward pulled the shaking and almost hysterical boy close to him. At first, unable to see properly, Frankie fought him, terrified beyond reason.

“Frankie, Frankie, it’s me, Edward,” he spoke urgently but softly, trying to reach the boy to no avail.

Placing his arms around him and holding him firmly, but gently, it was a few minutes before Frankie stopped struggling. Not because he realised he was safe, but from sheer exhaustion. Only now as he hung limply in Edward’s arms as he knelt beside him, did he start to calm down. His tears slowed and were replaced by sniffles. Slowly realising who was with him, Frankie clung to Edward as firmly as Edward was holding him.

“E-Ed... Edward,” he stammered. “P-please help me.”


	20. My Way Home is Through You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Edward protect Frankie from Korse?

Edward cradled Frankie in his arms for several more minutes, simply rocking him gently. He thought about the treatment his guardian had given him in the three years before he had managed to escape, the love and kindness he had experience in the six months living at Gerard and Mikey's suite and how he had been growing in confidence every day. Now, Korse had shattered all that in a matter of a few hours. The poor boy had seen how safety could be snatched away in a moment and would probably never feel safe again. He swallowed hard, pulling his anger deep inside him; the last thing he wanted was for Frankie to see him angry in case he believed it was aimed at him. But for his efforts, the boy noticed and lifted his head from Edward's shoulder.

"Are... are you okay?" He asked quietly.  
"Me?" Edward's heart ached at the words. Brushing a few strands of Frankie's hair away from his tear stained face, he smiled kindly. "I'm fine, why do you ask?"  
"You're really tense," Frankie replied with deep uncertainty.

Edward exhaled and nodded.

"Frankie, I'm sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am that this happened to you."  
"But..." Frankie looked down, at first uncertain how to respond. "It wasn't you, was it?"  
"No, but I..." Edward shook his head. "I didn't see it coming. I should have been there to protect you."  
"From Korse?" Frankie gasped; he knew the dynamic and likely outcome of defying the exterminator.  
"Yes, Frankie," he replied kindly, smoothing his hair and gently wiping the tear streaks from the boy's cheeks. "From Korse."  
"Like you protected Gee? I miss him, Edward." He looked down, big round tears dripping from his eyes once more. "I'll never see him again, will I?"   
"Why do you say that?" Edward asked with a frown.  
"Korse isn't going to let me go. He'll kill me, I know he will. He lied to Mikey about not knowing where I was. If he was going to let me go... he wouldn't have done that, would he?"

Edward sighed; the boy was more intelligent than most would give him credit for.

"I don't know," he finally replied with a resigned sigh. Whatever Korse's reasons, it would do the young boy no good to believe himself under a death sentence, even though it seemed most likely.

Edward grimaced; he was faced with an impossible choice. Allow Korse to kill Frankie or enable his escape. If he helped him escape, Korse would go after him. He liked his life in Battery City, he liked his job and his company. If he allowed Frankie to escape, it would be the end of the life he had built for himself, it might even mean his death.

"It's okay," Frankie spoke with an unnatural calm. "With illnesses and Lawson, I never really expected to live this long."

Edward's eyes widened. In that moment his mind was made up.

"And you have a lot of years left to live yet, Frankie. I'm going to see to that!"  
"But if you... No..." Frankie began, only to be cut off by the sound of the office door opening.

Ahead of him, in the chrome of the desk, Edward could see the source of Frankie's distress. 

"Follow my lead," he whispered almost silently, shielding his mouth for additional security.

Turning to look behind him, Edward rose, a grim expression fixed firmly on his face.

"I expected better from you, Edward," Korse's voice rang out, icy and scathing. "If only for the fact that you didn't notice the room is fitted with hidden security cameras."

Korse shook his head as he took several steps forward.

"My team managed to pick apart your excellent programming, young Frankie. I know that you changed everything to make it appear that Jakob had taken Gerard, but I just couldn't work out why. At first, I thought it was because you didn't like him or rather what you thought he was doing, but that seemed an extreme response and then, finally I realised that you were protecting someone. Who could that possibly be?" He asked the rhetorical question as he waved his arms in a dramatic gesture of confusion. "Apart from the Ways, there really only was one possibility. So, Edward, why don't you tell me where Gerard is and maybe I can forego the pleasure of your execution and merely exile you to the Zones?"

Edward took a step forward and heaved a deep sigh. 

"I think you need to reassess your team, sir," Edward shook his head lightly. "I don't know where your information has come from, but I can tell you that you're wrong on all counts."  
"Do you take me for a fool? I just heard you telling him that you would protect him!" Korse snapped; puzzled by Edward's somewhat unexpected response.   
"Of course I'm going to tell him that," Edward replied with an expression of disbelief clear on his face. "If he thinks I'm going to help him, he's more likely to confess than if I beat it out of him. This boy had been severely beaten for three years by his guardian, do you honestly think I can do any worse?"  
"He also said you protected Gerard," Korse replied angrily.   
"I did," Edward replied bluntly. "That's my job. I protect both of them, Gerard and Mikey. What do you think he meant?"  
"He meant that you had Gerard taken somewhere."  
"Why would I do that? What would I be protecting him from?" Edward asked. "You suggested yourself that Frankie invented the idea that Jakob was drugging him. Or was it specifically the Frammen that you're saying he made up? Was Jakob giving him Kanslokal or something else?"

Korse stared in response, Edward's responses seemed highly plausible and in fact, seemed to point to some questionable activity on his own part. He had to be very careful how he responded.

"We still haven't found Jakob, but preliminary tests indicate that there was Kanslokal in the brand of coffee he was giving Gerard."   
"So, he was drugging him?" Edward tipped his head and raised a questioning eyebrow.

Korse suddenly realised after his reply that he had sounded defensive, as if he were being interrogated. Feeling very much on the back foot, he opted to go on the attack again.

"Where is Gerard?" He demanded again.  
"Don't you think I wish I knew?" He offered a puzzled expression. "It really doesn't matter what he gave him, does it? The result was still the same and, as it turns out, if had removed him from the suite, I actually would have been protecting him. I don't understand why you would find that suspicious."

Korse drew his lips into a thin line, Edward had an answer for everything so far, but there was still one final sticking point.

"That doesn't explain why the boy deleted security footage and made it look as though Jakob had been drugging him with Frammen."

Edward remained silent, it was a damning piece of evidence.

"I... I can tell you," came a small voice behind him.

Korse looked down at the small boy and sneered. 

"Really?"  
"I woke up one night and saw Jakob putting something into the jar of coffee that Gee likes. I didn't know what it was, but I was worried. Gee's been acting so strange, I knew it had to be related. When Jakob left and Gee ran out, I wanted to make it look like he had engineered it so people would realise and do something about it. But then neither Gee or Jakob come back and I was too scared to tell anyone what I'd done. I meant well, but I... I can understand why you're angry with me, but... well it's made you suspicious of Edward and he's done nothing wrong! He's been worried sick and barely left us on our own since Gee left. I'm sorry," he looked down. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to cause all this but I didn't know what to do!"

Frankie was crying again and Edward found himself automatically reaching down to scoop him up. Looking at Korse's grim and almost defeated expression, Edward assumed that the best course of action was to behave like a totally innocent man.

"Exterminator Korse, I understand why your suspicions were raised and I do appreciate you giving me the chance to explain. I expect Frankie feels bad enough that he caused so much trouble for everyone but, given his age and apology, I assume you won't be taking this further. I'd like to take him home. Is there anything else?"

Korse nodded stiffly; he wasn't sure what to believe. He had been convinced that Edward was lying to him, but every accusation was countered either with the truth or with supreme skill - at this moment he wasn't certain which definition to apply, but he was determined to find out.

"No, thank you Edward, you may take the boy home," he growled through gritted teeth as he glared at Frankie.  
"I am really sorry, sir," Frankie added with a convincing hiccup as he spoke.  
"Do not meddle again," Korse growled in reply. 

Watching, deep in thought as Edward headed for the door, still carrying Frankie, Korse's eyes widened suddenly.

"Wait!" He barked. Waiting for Edward to turn, he narrowed his eyes as he spoke to Frankie. "Mikey backed up your version of events. Was he lying too?"  
"No, sir," Frankie replied sheepishly. "I told him that I was using the laptop to find out what had happened and then told him what I had done, pretending it had actually happened."  
"Is that so?" Korse sneered.  
"Yes, sir," Frankie's eyes widened slightly. "I doubt Mikey could lie to you. He respects you too much."

Korse closed his eyes briefly. If this was all true, it meant that Mikey's indoctrination was still in effect and serving its purpose. He wanted to believe it, but he wasn't so naive as to be blinded by it. The next few days would be crucial; if there was a plot, he would uncover it.

"Very well," he nodded. "Take him home," he added in a terse, dismissive tone.

He watched carefully as Edward left the office, carrying Frankie in his arms.

"If you're lying to me, Edward," alone in the office he growled through gritted teeth, "rest assured, you won't live long enough to regret it."

*

Gerard tapped the top of the pencil on his lips. He had started with a simple list, but that had long since grown into an intricate mind map, crawling across the page like a giant spider. He looked up as the door opened again; it was Leech accompanied by Dr Death Defying. 

"Hi!" Gerard smiled cheerfully. "What's the electricity supply like in the Zones? I see you have it here, but is that normal?" He asked, his hand hovering over one corner of the map.   
"Hi to you too," Leech smiled in return and offered Death an optimistic glance.   
"How are you feeling today, Gerard?" Death asked brightly. 

Gerard offered him a broad grin in return, lowered the pencil and paper and got to his feet.

"Better than I have in..." he paused as he thought about it. "Months... easily."  
"That's good to hear, Gerard. I think you'll be able to go home now."

Gerard frowned with uncertainty as he thought about returning to Battery City and in particular to Korse who he now accepted that, far from being his guardian, had actually almost killed him, or at the very least, risked driving him insane through the administration of Kanslokal before his body was old enough to handle such a powerful drug.

"What's wrong, Gerard?" Death tipped his head to the right and eyed him with a concerned glance.  
"I'll be going back to the place that... or, rather the person that did this to me, won't I? He's already arranged my abduction and now the Kanslokal. What's next? And what about Mikey? Or Frankie? He has too many options to get to me. I think he knows my indoctrination failed. If I go back, he might use this as a reason to do it again." Gerard lowered his eyes and his shoulders sagged. "What if it works next time?"  
"What do you want to do, Gerard?" Death asked his voice gentle and curious.  
"I want to help the Zones. You've shown me what it's really like and I'm ashamed of how Battery City has treated you. But to have any chance I have to go back."  
"But going back is dangerous for you."

It was almost a question, almost a statement. Gerard let the words sink in and pursing his lips thoughtfully, he nodded briefly.

"I have to do it though. What can I do from here at my age? Besides, I have to be with Mikey and Frankie... I need to look after them. Yes," he nodded with determination. "If I do nothing, I've wasted an opportunity and something needs to happen."

Death Defying looked at Leech and nodded.

"He was right about him."  
"Edward? What did he say?" Gerard tipped his head, curious about what was said.

Death hesitated; there was still an element of doubt in his mind and he could not risk his former sergeant's life.

"I'm sorry," Gerard lifted his hands up, palms facing out, "you can't tell me who it was, I understand."  
"I'll arrange for you to be collected as soon as possible. We may have to drug you..."

Death paused, halted by the expression of alarm on Gerard's face. Now it was Death's turn to raise his hands in a comforting gesture.

"I know how you feel about needles and I know that's probably been intensified by the treatment, but I can do it without an injection."

Gerard's eyes returned to their normal shape and size before he allowed a held deep breath to leave him slowly.

"It's still pretty scary, but I understand, and I'm okay with it."  
"Okay, we'll sort it out for you to leave," Death nodded and moved to turn his chair around, only to be stopped by Gerard as he held a hand out as a signal to pause.

"Wait..." he looked at both men in turn. "Thank you. Really, thank you. I know you gave up a lot and risked more to help me and I don't know how successful I'm going to be at changing things but I promise I will try my best. I owe you my life and I'll never forget that."  
"I'm glad we could help and I'm glad we did," Death replied with a faint smile. "Whatever you can do, we'll be grateful."  
"Can... can I see Jet before I go?"

Death had already turned his chair to wheel out, but Leech looked back.

"Sure, I'll bring him."

Gerard smiled; he'd grown very fond of Jet and the two had struck up a friendship over the previous week in particular. He couldn't help but wonder if he would ever see him again.


	21. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frankie returns home and Gerard sets off from the Rebel Stars’ camp

Mikey was pacing; he had heard from Edward and had been told that Frankie was okay, but he wanted to see for himself. He was also furious - suspecting Korse had lied to him; his trust in the exterminator, whilst already waning, was now severely diminished. He would have to have an extremely good excuse if he had lied and, knowing him, he would probably conjure one, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be just another lie. Finally flopping down on the couch, exhausted and dizzy from his pacing, he didn’t even notice the elevator display showing it swiftly on the move. Only at the subtle ping sound as it arrived at its destination did Mikey realise. Turning his head sharply towards the source of the noise, he chewed on his lip as he waited for the doors to open.  
  
“Frankie!” He called, elated and relieved, jumping up to embrace the younger boy as he ran from the elevator.  
  
Frankie squirmed in discomfort as his friend checked him over for signs of injury.  
  
“Mikeyway! I’m fine!” Frankie insisted with an obviously forced laugh.  
  
Mikey frowned and held Frankie at arms length as he looked at him.  
  
“You’ve been crying?” His frown deepened. “What happened? Where were you?”  
“So what,” Frankie grumbled, pouting as he pulled out of Mikey’s grip and headed towards Gerard’s room. “Crying’s not a crime... yet.”  
“Frankie?”  
  
The younger boy stopped in his tracks and turned, a look of guilt settling on his face as he heard the pain in his friend’s voice. One glance at Mikey’s concerned and distressed expression was enough to break Frankie’s bravado. Flopping down to sit on one of the few steps that led to the bedrooms, Frankie hunched over, dropping his head onto his arms, folded and resting on his knees. Almost immediately the sound of sobbing emerged and the boy’s slight frame shook with the effort.  
  
“Frankie!” Mikey gasped as he ran to his friend, pulling him into a warm and comforting embrace. “You’re safe now. Whatever happened, you’re with me, you’re safe.”  
  
Sniffing, hiccuping and still crying, Frankie managed a few words, emerging disjointed and high-pitched as he found it difficult to control his voice.  
  
“No, you were here when I was taken. You couldn’t stop them. I know you tried but they still took me. If it weren’t for Edward, I’d be dead by now. I’m not safe. I need to leave or I never will be!”  
  
Frankie dissolved into renewed weeping once more, the wrenching sobs exhausting him as he leaned into Mikey’s arms - now the only things keeping him upright. His shoulders continued to shake as further waves of distress washed over him with alarming regularity.  
  
“Edward,” Mikey whispered. “Can you help me get Frankie to bed, please?”  
“No,” the younger boy wailed. “I need to go, I’m not safe. You’re not safe either, not while I’m here.”  
  
Mikey aimed a desperate pleading expression toward the security guard. Nodding, Edward headed to the bar area and poured some water into a small glass. Fishing a small plastic box from his pocket, he opened it and thought for a moment before selecting a yellow tablet and dropped it into the water. Within moments he was offering the glass to the tearful boy.  
  
“Frankie, drink this,” he encouraged. “You must be really dehydrated. This’ll help.”  
“B-but I need to...”  
“We’ll help you find somewhere safe, but first drink up. You’ll feel better.”  
“Thanks,” Frankie grasped the glass with two trembling hands and raised it to his lips. “It’s sweet,” he commented with surprise.  
“I put a bit of sugar in,” Edward explained. “It’ll help you feel better.”  
  
Frankie nodded, taking more of the sweetened water, not realising that it also disguised the taste of the sedative that Edward had also added. Finishing the water, Frankie allowed Edward to ease the glass from his fingers and place it to the side. It was a gentle but fast acting drug, and Edward held the boy close, stroking his hair soothingly as he waited. It was only a couple of minutes or even less before the young boy slumped in Edward’s arms.  
  
With a slight smile, Edward scooped him up and took him to Gerard’s room. Slipping off the boys sneakers, he laid him gently on the bed and covered him with a thin blanket so he didn’t get too hot with all his clothes still on. Stepping back into the living room, Mikey was staring expectantly at the security guard; he wanted answers. Edward looked back and sighed as the boy gestured with his hands to encourage Edward to speak.  
  
“Sit down, Mikey, please,” Edward indicated to the dining table and chairs.  
“What happened to him? Why is he so upset?” Mikey prompted with two initial questions as he pulled a chair out and sat down.  
  
Joining him at the table, Edward took a deep inhalation of breath as he wondered how Mikey would take the news he was about to impart.  
  
“You don’t want to tell me, do you?” Mikey narrowed his eyes with suspicion.  
“No, I don’t, but not for the reason you think,” Edward replied, keeping his voice calm and smooth.  
“How do you know what I’m thinking?” Mikey grumbled.  
“I don’t,” Edward admitted. “But whatever you’re thinking, it’s unlikely to be the reason I have.”  
“Oh,” Mikey frowned. “What happened? Who took him?”  
  
Edward clasped his hands, his fingers intertwining. Pausing momentarily, he nodded and continued:  
  
“It was Korse,” Edward replied bluntly.  
“Korse?” Mikey’s brow creased in confusion. “I spoke to him, he told me he didn’t know where he was. He didn’t arrest him.”  
“He did, and if you don’t believe me, you can ask Frankie later, when he wakes up.”  
  
Mikey looked worried as he considered his words. Edward had no reason to lie to him, but he couldn’t imagine why Korse did either - yet one of them was certainly lying.  
  
“Korse lied to me? Why?” Mikey asked, with a puzzled expression now fixed on his face.  
“I don’t know, Mikey but he did have Frankie arrested. He wanted me to interrogate him about Gerard’s disappearance.”  
“You interrogated him?” Mikey gasped. “No wonder he’s upset!”  
“No,” Edward replied firmly, “I didn’t. I just brought him home.”  
“Then... what did Korse do?” Mikey asked, growing angry as he spoke.  
“Locked him in a small cabinet that was designed to keep getting smaller,” Edward lowered his eyes. “When I found him, he was... practically hysterical.”  
“Why would he do that?” Mikey asked, aghast. “Frankie’s claustrophobic.”  
“Precisely for that reason,” Edward looked up again. “He wanted him desperate enough to tell me anything.”  
  
Mikey grew quiet and thoughtful as he considered the words.  
  
“Why?” He asked finally.  
“He thought he knew something about Gerard’s disappearance. Now he thinks I do.”  
“I’ve been thinking about the last time Gerard went missing, when the rebels had him.”  
“Go on,” Edward encouraged.  
  
Mikey chewed his lip, uncertain whether or not to voice his concerns.  
  
“Well,” he began, a nervous frown on his lips. “When that happened, Korse was here insisting he’d find him, telling me not to worry. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, he finds him and brings him home. I... I know you already told us about Korse’s involvement but I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t. If I had... well, everything I trusted...”  
  
Mikey paused, shaking his head, his brow creased with deep lines of concern.  
  
“He’s already hurt Gee and Frankie,” taking a deep breath, he chewed his lip. “Are we safe, Edward? I know he’s our guardian but I don’t feel safe here any more.”  
“I can’t promise that he won’t do anything else to hurt any of you, Mikey,” Edward frowned. “But I will do everything I can to protect you all.”  
“When Gee comes back...” Mikey’s eyes glazed with a distant stare. “What will happen to him? What will Korse do next?”  
  
Edward sighed; he didn’t dare imagine.  
  
“When he gets back, we’ll talk again.”  
  
Mikey nodded; convinced that Gerard would know what to do.  
  
*  
  
Gerard stood at the door to the dilapidated building that had once been a pawnbroker’s. He squinted in the bright sun and was sweltering in the heat. It was only now that he realised how different life in the Zones would be to the one he lived in Battery City. There he enjoyed every convenience, regulated weather, a variety of good and abundant food and drinks, reliable transport, fine clothes... the list was endless. Everything the Zones didn’t have, in fact. And yet, here, in this run down building with men who lived such in rough and severe conditions, deprived of even basic needs, he had found safety and a camaraderie that he had not experienced before.  
  
“I guess I won’t see you again.”  
  
Jet drew up alongside Gerard and turned his head to look at him. Gerard exhaled deeply; he appeared saddened by the words.  
  
“I hadn’t thought about that,” he sighed, turning to look at Jet. “I guess I didn’t want to.”  
  
The words raised a bleak smile from the rebel boy.  
  
“Can’t you stay?” He asked in return.  
“Stay?” Gerard almost laughed. “Can you imagine just how dangerous that would be for you? They’ll be looking for me, you know.”  
“They are,” Jet nodded. “We’ve picked up quite a few radio transmissions to drac patrols. Even the exterminators have been out looking for you!”  
“Not Korse, I’ll bet,” Gerard shrugged.  
“Oh, he has,” Jet contradicted him. “From what I can work out, he’s been in the Zones with an elite team every day.”  
“Huh! It’s not because they want me back; I know that now. They just don’t want me finding out the truth!”  
“The truth is dangerous,” Jet replied with a shrug. “To them, I mean.”  
“Hmm,” Gerard nodded, absently staring out into the desert. “I doubt they’d recognise the truth if they heard it. And you know what? I feel ashamed to be part of it.”  
“It’s not your fault,” Jet replied, concerned for his new friend.  
“I’ve played my part simply by doing nothing,” Gerard shook his head, his mouth drawn into a thin line.  
“Did you know there was anything that needed doing?” Jet asked with caution in his tone.  
“No...” Gerard began.  
“Well then,” Jet shrugged, raising his arms with his palms facing up to emphasise his point.  
“Now I do,” Gerard replied, suddenly determined and somewhat angry. “And I’m going to change things.”  
“Be careful, Gerard,” Jet warned. “They won’t roll over easily.”  
  
Gerard looked at Jet, a surprised expression emerging on his face. He had not considered BLI’s reaction until now and as Jet indicated, it seemed likely to be a combination of hostility and evasiveness.  
  
“I’ll be careful,” he nodded, grateful for the advice. “I... I wish I could stay but my brother and best friend are still there. I can’t leave them.”  
“I understand,” Jet replied. “You talked about them a lot when you were delirious.”  
Gerard’s cheeks flushed a deep pink at the words and he stared alarmed at Jet.  
“I... What did I...? You heard me? Did anyone else...? I... oh, no,” his shoulders sagged at the revelation. “What did I say?”  
“Don’t worry, it was just me and Babydoc. Oh, and Flex once, but that was later when you were making sense.”  
“What did... sorry, Jet... I really need to know.”  
“Just how much you love them. It seemed really hard for you to be away from them.”  
“It is,” Gerard nodded. “But it’ll be hard going back too.”  
“Why?” Jet tipped his head and offered a puzzled stare.  
“I’m going to miss you guys too. You’ve done so much for me... risked so much...”  
Jet’s eyes widened as he heard the catch in Gerard’s voice as he became suddenly overwhelmed by emotion.  
“I’ll miss you too,” Jet replied, turning to pull Gerard into a sincere and comforting embrace. “I honestly didn’t expect to like you... but now...”  
“We’ll always be friends, Jet, whatever happens and wherever we are,” Gerard mumbled over the other boy’s shoulder. “I’m better for having known you.”  
“Me too,” Jet agreed. “Take care of yourself and Mikey and Frankie.”  
  
Gerard laughed; he really had been talking about them. He would have understood Jet knowing of Mikey through the BLI literature, but he could only have known about Frankie from him.  
  
“Said your goodbyes, Gerard?”  
  
The voice belonged to Dr Death Defying and Gerard found himself nodding as he took a small step back and smiled at his new friend.  
  
“Yes, sir,” he added. “Well, to Jet, anyway. I really want to thank you, sir. You saved my life. I just hope I’m able to do something to make a difference. I will try, I promise, I’ll do everything I can.”  
“That’s not why we helped you, but I’m glad to hear it.”  
  
Death Defying stretched out a hand towards Gerard who shook it firmly.  
  
“Sir, why did you help me?” Gerard asked quietly.  
“A friend in need. My sergeant managed to get me off the battlefield to safety when I lost the use of my legs. He’s like a son to me and I saw how important you are to him. I couldn’t refuse.”  
  
Gerard smiled faintly; these men were fine role models. The type of men he would look to for inspiration and guidance. There was no one like that in Battery City except Edward.  
  
“I’ll tell Edward what you said, sir,” Gerard replied politely, raising a chuckle from the doctor.  
“You do that,” he nodded knowingly. “Now then, Flex and Leech are going to take you to the rendezvous point where he’ll meet you and take you back. Are you ready to leave?”  
  
Gerard inhaled deeply as he thought about the question. There was a part of him that simply wanted to see Mikey, Frankie and Edward again and surprisingly another that simply wanted to stay. He knew which had to win for all their sakes.  
  
“Yes, sir,” he nodded.  
“You’re a brave young man, I hope you realise that?” Death added his appreciation for what Gerard was planning in return for them.  
“I’ll try to put it to good use,” he replied with a firm nod.  
  
As he spoke, Flex and Leech appeared in the doorway, both putting on sunglasses as they stepped into the unforgiving sunlight.  
  
“Ready to roll?” Flex asked cheerfully.  
“Yeah,” Gerard nodded before hesitating. “Oh... no... where’s Babydoc? I haven’t said goodbye.”  
“You missed him,” Leech shrugged. “He went out early on reconnaissance. He’s not reported any problems, so I guess we have a clear run.”  
“We’ll tell him you said goodbye,” Flex added. “He’ll understand.”  
  
After giving Jet and Death Defying a brief hug, Gerard followed the two ex-soldiers to the jeep to begin the long journey back to Battery City. Climbing into the jeep, Gerard tilted his head and offered a questioning look.  
  
“I thought you were going to drug me?” He asked.  
“Are you gonna run away?” Leech asked with a smirk.  
“No,” Gerard laughed in return.  
“No need then, is there?” He replied as he started the engine. “Besides, it’s much easer to talk to you when you’re awake. All Flex ever says is ‘Stop slouching!’”  
“Hey!” Flex complained, raising a bright laugh from Gerard as the small group drove off down Route Guano.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers. I’m really sorry for the long delay in getting this chapter up. Uni has become really hectic but I’m now in the last 3 months and although it’s full on, the end is in sight! I will finish this, I promise, but it may be a few weeks until the next update.
> 
> Thanks for staying with it! I really appreciate you taking to the time to read and, if you have time, comment.
> 
> Take care!  
> Sas xx


	22. Chief Exterminator Korse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is a promotion on the cards?

Passing the faded yellow and black, diamond shaped Zone marker standing at a precarious angle at the side of the road was the first hint to Gerard about how far away from Battery City he was. He pursed his lips as he noted it announced that they had reached Zone 2. He knew from the maps he had seen of the Zones beyond the city that each zone increased in size exponentially. This meant that Zone 2 wasn’t a comparatively great distance from the city dome. Added to that, they had only been driving for about an hour, which meant that they hadn’t been deep into Zone 3.

He grew silent and frowned deeply as the significance sank in. The lack of facilities, suitable drinking water, medicines, food, jobs and everything else that he considered part of even a basic standard of living shocked him to the core. As he saw it, there was no excuse, and he suspected that BLI was - and had always been - as aware of this as he now was. Otherwise, why lie about it? The more he thought about it, the more concerned he grew. He wondered what it was that they were trying to hide.

“What’s up, Gerard?”  
“Hmm?”

Gerard looked up, his eyes vacant at first, deeply lost in thought. It was Flex who had spoken and from the expression on his face, it had been more than once.

“Where’ve you been?” Flex grinned. “You weren’t here, that’s for sure.”

Gerard offered an embarrassed grin at the question; he had long since noted that Flex, in fact all of them, were highly observant and very little went unnoticed. He imagined it as a kind of occupational necessity and very possibly the main reason they had managed to survive so long.

“I was thinking about Battery City,” he sighed, as he thought about how to phrase his question.  
“You’ll be back soon,” Flex offered a reassuring yet somehow sad smile.

Gerard’s brow furrowed as he stared back, chewing his bottom lip with uncertainty.

“That’s not it, is it?” Flex asked, mirroring Gerard’s worried expression.  
“I don’t understand why they lie about the Zones.”

Flex offered a thin smile as he considered the statement; Gerard had clearly been considering the point for some time.

“You’re confused about the lying?” Flex asked quietly.  
“Yeah,” he replied, his pitch increased suggesting his confusion.  
“I’m not questioning your sincerity to help the Zones, Gerard,” Flex raised his hands as he explained, believing he saw a flash of what might have been anger or disappointment. “I’m just not sure why their lying surprises you.”  
“I just don’t know why they bother.”  
“Go on,” Flex encouraged.

Gerard took a deep breath as he considered how he was going to phrase his concerns; particularly as he wasn’t entirely certain he had formulated his thoughts. It was at this point he noticed that Leech, whilst keeping his eyes on the road was now paying attention to their conversation. Neither seemed tense or worried, which reassured him that there was no ulterior motive for their question, but he remained frustrated by his uncertainties.

“Okay,” he nodded, tapping a finger against his lips. “So, BLI has a tight grip on Battery City and pretty much everyone there is taking their mind-numbing drugs, but they say that everyone is happy and taken care of. I mean, not just Battery City, but the Zones too. Why bother? Why do they even need to? Who are they trying to convince?”  
“They don’t say everyone’s happy in the Zones.” Flex tilted his head in surprise.  
“In fact,” Leech briefly glanced over his shoulder, “they use the idea that everyone is happy in Bat City to taunt people in the Zones. Trying to entice people back, if they’ll have them.”  
“Which’ll only happen if they have some sort of useful profession,” Flex added.

Gerard stared back, suddenly realising that things were worse than he had originally thought.

“Oh!” He replied, his eyes wide in surprise. “Maybe it’s just me then? Why would they need to tell me that the Zones were looked after?”

Flex stared blankly; apparently equally puzzled by the revelation.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged as he considered the question. “Maybe... maybe because of the marketing you’re involved in? They want to convince you that...” Flex frowned as he paused; it seemed implausible that they would care what the boy thought.  
“It’ll be to explain the existence of rebels.” Leech called back, glancing briefly over his shoulder. “If you believe that everyone in Bat City and beyond is looked after then the only reason for rebels to exist would have to be political. We’re portrayed as terrorists, fighting for control against a benevolent governing body purely for nefarious purposes.”  
“And if I believe the Zones are full of dangerous rebels, I won’t question what happens to them,” Gerard took a deep breath. “And...”  
“You can be controlled by them without the need for drugs while you’re still so young,” Flex continued.  
“And when Korse arranged for me to be taken by rebels...”  
“He didn’t,” Flex appeared astonished by the statement. “That was Mole... to get you clean.”  
“Mole?” Gerard raised his eyebrows and almost laughed. “No,” he continued, “I mean the other time. He had three rebels abduct me and...” Gerard tapered off and he looked down frowning.  
“He...” Flex’s eyes widened in surprise. “He... what?”

Gerard offered a weak smile and shrugged half-heartedly.

“I was supposed to order the execution of three rebels. I didn’t want to and he doubted my loyalty to BLI, so he arranged for my abduction. They beat me pretty badly because I wouldn’t read out their message.”  
“And Korse did that to you?” Flex asked, his expression one of deep sympathy.  
“Yeah,” Gerard replied quietly.  
“That’s sick,” he snapped with a deep frown.  
“That’s not the worst of it,” Gerard shook his head.  
“There’s worse?” Leech asked, without turning.  
“He’s my uncle.”  
“Yeah,” Leech glanced back again in disbelief. “That’s definitely worse.”  
“How on earth could he do that to his own nephew?” Flex gasped in astonishment.

The medics glanced back and forth at each other; both of them sporting a puzzled expression.

“Well,” Gerard shrugged, with a half-smile. “I guess he has a spare.”

The comment broke the tension in the jeep raising a laugh from the pair.

“Korse only does anything if it benefits him.” Leech rolled his eyes. “Plus, the man’s been twisted by BLI conditioning. It still worries me that you’re going back to him.”

Gerard smiled at Leech’s concern but had no time to consider his words as the jeep suddenly juddered and skidded sideways across the road. A cloud of dust and sand rose up obscuring the area to the right of the jeep making it hard to see what had happened. Immediately ducking down, Flex had pushed Gerard flat to the floor of the jeep and both men had drawn their weapons.

“Can you see anything?” Leech hissed quietly.  
“No,” Flex replied in a rough whisper, his throat now coated in dust as the cloud moved over them.  
“What’s happened?” Gerard asked, alarmed by the sudden halt.  
“Stay down,” Flex warned, looking about nervously. “It may just be a blown tyre, but...”

Flex never finished the sentence. The sound of laser fire ripped through the air and the remaining occupants of the jeep were showered in blood as the side of Flex’s head tore open and he slumped to the right.

“No!” Gerard screamed in horror, pushing himself upright automatically as he launched himself forward in the desperate hope he was still alive.

Leech turned his head sharply in the direction the shot had come from. Aware that Gerard was now on his knees and cradling Flex, tears filling his eyes as he realised that he was beyond hope, Leech didn’t have time to warn him to stay down before a second shot ripped through the air from the opposite side and killed the phlebotomist.

“No!” Gerard cried again, by now allowing the tears to stream down his face.

These men, these brave veterans, had risked everything for him and now paid with their lives. Gerard slumped, overcome with grief and waiting for the shot that would claim him too. As he looked down, he spied Flex’s dropped ray gun and snatched it up, his head looking from side to side, scanning the area. Wiping the tears from his eyes and cheeks, he began to grow angry; determined to avenge their deaths.

As two figures emerged, one either side of the jeep, he stared in astonishment; his eyes wide and wild as Exterminator Korse and Chief Exterminator Vitkovski walked slowly and triumphantly towards the jeep.

“Gerard,” Korse called in an icy cold tone. “Drop the gun and step down from the jeep. You’re safe now.”

Gerard’s chest heaved as he considered his options. What could he do? Could he kill them? Could he even defy them? There was one on each side; if he shot one, the other would surely kill him and he would have achieved nothing. But as he looked two of the men who had helped him, now lifeless, his anger bubbled up again.

“Get down from the jeep, Gerard!” Korse yelled.

Gerard turned his head back to the right; Korse was almost upon him. Still clutching the gun, although not aiming it, Gerard jumped down from the jeep, only to be pushed back against it, held firm by Korse’s left hand on his chest. Staring up defiantly, only the slightest flicker of fear manifested itself in his eyes as Korse pushed his gun under Gerard’s chin and he offered a sickly smile at the boy.

“Drop the gun, Gerard,” he added almost sweetly.

There was little he could do and he hated himself for it. Swallowing hard, Gerard allowed the gun to fall to the floor and within moments Korse had spun him around, pressing him against the side of the jeep. Gerard’s eyes widened from a combination of being within inches of Flex’s body, able now to see the messy head wound and staring, lifeless eyes and the fact that Korse had pulled his arms behind him and swiftly locked his wrists into restraints.

“Is that really necessary, Korse?” Vitkovski admonished as he re-holstered his gun. “It’s hardly his fault he was taken by rebels.”  
“That’s not why I’m doing it,” Korse smirked.  
“Why then?” The Chief Exterminator asked with a puzzled frown.  
“So he’s easier to handle after I do this.”

Korse raised his gun once more and before there was a chance to react, Korse had gunned down Vitkovski. Turning Gerard back to face him, he laughed as he noted the terror in the boy’s eyes at the sight of the Chief Exterminator’s murder.

“What... wh-what did you do that for?” Gerard gasped, his alarm almost snatching the words from him.  
“I didn’t,” he smirked. “Such a shame your friends got to him first.”  
“Why?” He demanded.  
“I’m ready for a promotion,” he announced in return. “I just needed a suitable vacancy.”  
“You think I won’t tell anyone?” Gerard gasped.  
“Well, that depends, doesn’t it?” Korse replied, his smile morphing into a threatening glare.  
“What on?” Gerard asked, trying hard to hold off the shake in his voice.  
“A number of things,” Korse continued. “Whether or not you make it back to Battery City, whether you survive re-indoctrination, and how much you want your little friend to live.”

Gerard’s eyes opened wide at the terrifying threat. Not only did he know he meant what he said, but he knew he was more than capable of carrying it out. Shaking his head silently, Gerard looked up at Korse’s new expression. Something of a cross between superior, gloating and cruel, his smirk widened into a malicious grin as he saw the fear in Gerard’s eyes.

“Back to Battery City then,” Korse laughed as he dragged Gerard to the car hidden behind a sand dune to the right of the road. “Of course, you’ll be headed straight for the cells for interrogation and re-indoctrination. We can’t leave the face of BLI brainwashed by rebels, can we?”  
“I haven’t been...”

Gerard’s objections were cut off sharply as Korse threw him roughly to the ground. Unable to break his fall, Gerard skidded and rolled slowly to a halt.

“Do you want me to cuff your ankles and leave you here?” Korse asked in an unnervingly casual tone.

On receiving no reply other than a wide-eyed and terrified stare, Korse chuckled to himself.

“No, I didn’t think so,” he smirked, reaching down to pull Gerard to his feet. “Don’t forget little Frankie,” he laughed again. “Your defiance is not good for his health.”

As the pair rounded the dune, Gerard saw that there were no draculoids accompanying the exterminator and that he was the only witness to Vitkovski’s murder.

“Do you understand?” Korse demanded.

Throwing Gerard against the side of the car, he shouted again.

“I said, do you understand?”

Swallowing his fear, Gerard first nodded before finding his voice.

“Yes,” he whispered.  
“Yes what?” Korse leaned in menacingly.  
“Yes, sir,” he replied, his heart racing.  
“Yes, what?” Korse bellowed.  
“Yes, Exterminator Korse,” he replied, hopeful to satisfy the man, now seemingly drunk with power.  
“I think you’ll find that’s _Chief_ Exterminator Korse!”

Gerard’s chest rose and fell rapidly with his heart rate and in his panic, he didn’t notice the exterminator reach into his pocket. Retrieving a small polythene bag from his pocket, Korse folded it back over his hand so as not to touch the contents - a chloroform soaked cloth - he forcefully pressed it over the boy’s nose and mouth, holding both Gerard and the cloth firm as he cried out and struggled in his grip. All too soon, Gerard’s struggles weakened and holding it in place for a few more moments after the boy’s knees had buckled, Korse drew the bag back up over the cloth, enclosing it once more, and pushed it into his pocket. Pushing Gerard onto the back seat of the car, Korse settled into the driver’s seat and headed back to Battery City, calling in the tragic news of Vitkovski’s murder by the rebels as he did. He would be hailed a hero; the chief exterminator position would soon be his.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! I really appreciate it :D I hope you’re enjoying it. 
> 
> If you have time, drop me a comment and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Thanks again!  
> Sas xx


End file.
